


Irresistible Hunger

by Sukunami



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-25
Updated: 2004-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukunami/pseuds/Sukunami
Summary: An Indian sacrifices his body and blood to keep his people safe





	1. Chapter 1

[Squall]

The morning air is cool and fresh along my heated skin, but I haven't the mindset to enjoy the slight breeze as every one of my shaky steps causes a new experience of pain. When the world begins to tilt against me, I reluctantly decide that a brief rest would be a good thing. Slumping under an aged tree too stubborn to die in this dusty plain, I press my hand harder against the cut at my bare side and hiss out a breath when blood slips from between my fingers. Well, this was rather stupid of myself.

"<Squa-all, you can't stop here.>"

I glare up at the young woman of long black hair, my annoyance faltering with a glance into her wide dark eyes misted with unshed tears. Rinoa is the only one who looks at me that way, showing true concern for my life and wellbeing. The rest of the tribe isn't exactly hateful toward me, but no one aside from this beauty would risk their life for mine.

Grabbing onto my injured arm, she gently pulls on it to motivate me to stand. "<Please, Squall. You got me this far, and I can't make it home on my own.>"

"<Rin...>" I shake my head, knowing that my strength was lost the moment I gave into the urge to rest. "<You can move faster without-->"

"< _No_ , I can't leave you behind,>" she declares while pulling harder at my arm, forcing me to bite back a groan as my muscle shifts around the remaining piece of the broken arrow shaft lodged in my upper arm.

Before I can speak another argument, the sound of boot on dried earth steals my attention as I turn sharply to glance behind me. My eyes widen vaguely at the sight of the large man standing maybe ten steps away, amazingly unheard despite his hard-sole boots. The man wears the typical cowboy outfit with dark and dusty pants, a wide belt hanging off his waist with his holstered guns, a long tan coat made of an animal hide, and a white hat with a leather strap looping under his chin. Because of his clothing, little of the broad shouldered man is visible aside from the pale skin of his chin and the arrogant curl to his lips, just barely viewable from below the wide brim of his lowered hat.

I hate him before his first words are spoken.

"Need a little help there?"

My teeth clench at the words drawled in that horrid language. Why did these men have to travel beyond the land they originally claimed? Is nothing enough for them?

Despite the commonsense which should have told the girl to run, Rinoa kneels next to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. "<Go away, devil. We have nothing to do with you.>"

The man cocks his head to the side, his white hat still revealing nothing more of his face than the widening grin.

"<He can't understand you,>" I tell Rinoa softly, my eyes never leaving the large man.

"<Then _you_ tell him to go away.>"

I briefly consider refusing her request, but there is little I can deny this woman. "She told you to leave."

His smirk falters at my voice, but returns in full force, disturbing me for some unnamed reason. "Well, I'll be... Some of these so-called 'Injuns' do know English. That will certainly make things easier."

"Leave us alone."

He chuckles breathily, and then adjusts his hat to reveal his face and intense green eyes. "No, I don't think I will. But you don't mind if I stay, do you?"

My mouth dries at the question, my demands for his departure sticking in my throat. And worse, the insane urge to invite him closer occurs to me. I have to bite my tongue from speaking the words.

A vague frown creases the man's brow, but then vanishes instantly as he glances in Rinoa's direction. "What an exotic beauty you are," he states softly. Lifting a gloved hand, he motions for her to come to him, a ridiculous order which almost makes me laugh. That is, until Rinoa releases her tight hold on me and slowly rises to her feet.

I quickly grab onto her wrist before she manages more than a half-step in his direction, her dark eyes shifting down at me in an accusatory manner. But the irritated expression slowly shifts into one of confusion, Rinoa then looking sharply at the white man as she takes a wary step backward.

"<Devil...>"

The man laughs deeply as he slowly closes the distance between us. "Let me guess, she called me a demon? Perhaps something more creative?"

"No closer," I say, but sensing the lack of confidence in my voice, the man doesn't halt his measured steps.

Without warning, Rinoa yanks her arm from my hold and runs toward the stranger in a foolish attempt to attack the far larger man. I cry out to her, but stubborn like any other woman, she ignores my call while rushing into obvious danger. The green-eyed man doesn't pause his approach, and instead lifts his hand with the palm facing forward. He whispers something, almost sounding like a mother quieting her child, and Rinoa reacts almost instantly as her steps lose steadiness until she collapses for no reason whatsoever. Swiftly, an arm prevents her from touching the dusty ground, and as if asleep, she moves limply when the man cradles her in his hold and presses a mocking kiss against her brow.

"Stop it," I hiss out, forcing myself to stand with the tree as my support. "We are not dangerous. Why this?"

Shifting his attention to me, the man smiles softly. "It's been a while since I've met someone strong enough to resist my... suggestions. Perhaps her safety will persuade you to be a good boy."

While a couple of his words are unknown to me, the general meaning comes across crystal clear. It makes me want to laugh, actually. Bruised all over my body and freely bleeding from my upper arm and side, I hardly appear a daunting warrior in this state. It's no wonder he wasn't afraid to approach us and intimidate us into obeying his demands. And sadly, I won't refuse him anymore if it means saving Rinoa's life. I didn't rescue the young woman from our rivals for her to be killed by a white man.

Unable to move, I watch as the large man carries the unconscious woman closer and sets her down to rest against the other side of the tree supporting my exhausted body. He then removes his hat, revealing short golden hair which lacks the typical dirt and sweat of most white men. After placing the hat on Rinoa's bowed head, he stands up smoothly to turn and look at me with his bright green eyes, his intense gaze making my breaths more rapid.

"Now, what should I do with you?"

'Anything,' is the response I immediately want to give him, but I keep my mouth tightly closed and shift my eyes to the plains of sagebrush and dirt. He chuckles at my actions and closes the remaining distance between us. His gloved hand goes to my arm and pulls it away from the deep wound at my side. Thinking he was only curious about my injury, it startles me when rough wetness moves across my palm. I turn my head sharply to find the blond man licking the fresh blood from my skin. Noticing my returned attention to him, the man smirks before placing two of my fingers in his mouth and starts sucking on them.

Snapping out of my shocked state, I yank my arm away from his hold. "What are you _doing_?"

With a glazed look to his eyes, the blond man runs his tongue across his bloodied lips, revealing a thus far unnoticed fang.

Fear runs cold through my body as I remember the nighttime tales of my mother, ones I never believed. "Vampire..." I whisper, as if hoping that the man would laugh at me for the foolish assumption. Instead, curiosity brightens his entrancing eyes.

"You are truly an interesting creature. Was it your mother or father who was white?"

"My mother," I reply instantly though I never intended to answer the man.

"Hmm, and was she the one to tell you all about werewolves, zombies, and vampires?" he asks menacingly, pressing closer to me such that his hand lightly covers my side injury and his face is hardly a finger's length away from mine. "Did she tell you what to do if you ever met a vampire?"

Irritation flares through my body at my helpless state, motivating me to shove him away. But he easily anticipates the pathetic attack and grabs my wrist to promptly raise them above my head and press them against the rough bark of the tree. I can't hold back a wince at the strain placed on my injured arm, the sight of which making the blond smirk.

"You should take better care of this beautiful body," he states before licking at the blood slipping down my bare arm. "Mmm, I can taste your mixed blood, you know, how it is both sweet and bitter. Completely different in essence, and yet complementary in flavor."

Failing to free my arms from his grasp, I glare at him. "Kill me or not. Do not play."

He flashes me a final smirk before bending in closer, his larger body completely covering mine. Though panic threatens to take hold of me, I give into the man's overwhelming aura which easily lowers my defenses and makes me relax in his hold. He purposefully brushes his fangs against my skin, not piercing flesh with the taunting touch. Instead, he kisses the sensitive area and licks heavily, drawing blood to the surface and most likely creating a mark which anyone could see if I somehow survived this encounter. Hardness suddenly presses between my legs, his knee nudging forward and rubbing up against my groin. I can't hold back a whimper at the unexpected move, and with my defenses lowered, I can't stop my body's reaction at the hard but pleasurable touch. That added to the continued motions along my neck, I feel myself succumbing to the seductive spell of the vampire.

But all of that abruptly ends with the crack of gunfire, my eyes snapping open at the painfully loud sound. I stare at the large man, surprised to see him a couple steps away from me and holding a smoking pistol in hand.

"Tch, a waste of good food," he states, reholstering his weapon with a fancy twirl.

Confused and lightheaded, I lower my freed arms and place a hand against my temple. Looking to the area the blond man was facing, I numbly stare at the sight of the killed man revealed from his hiding spot behind a bush. I recognize him as the brother or cousin to the man who kidnapped Rinoa, so it was almost satisfying to see him shot dead.

"Was he the one who hurt you?" the vampire asks, not sounding overly interested.

"... ..."

With returned humor, his green-eyed gaze shifts back to me. "You are a difficult piece of work, aren't you?"

I place a hand on my reopened side wound. "Why shoot him and not us?"

"Because you deserve my attention and he was interrupting my fun."

Frowning, I glance down at Rinoa, the woman still unconscious despite the previous gunfire. A gloved hand then grabs my chin, forcing me to gaze directly into the captivating eyes of poisonous green flecked with icy blue.

"Let's make a deal, lovely. I'll help you take your lady home, and then you're mine in exchange for her life and the lives of your tribe mates."

"I do not understand. Why...?"

"Don't ask questions. All you need to know is that both you and the woman can die here," he states with a suggestive glance in Rinoa's direction, "Or she lives and you belong to me for a period of time."

"And then I die."

He smiles in an oddly affectionate fashion. "And then you die."

It's not a hard decision to make. I know that I'm currently helpless again this demon in human form, but by agreeing to his condition, Rinoa can be protected and I will have plenty of opportunities to escape this man. Even more probable, the people of our tribe could rid the world of this dark creature whether he is truly a vampire or merely an insane man.

I nod my acceptance to his terms. "My life for her."

* * *

[Seifer]

Pulling my hat lower in the futile attempt to better shield my face, I silently curse the cloudless nature of this damned desert. Though I know my typically mild irritation against the sunlight is amplified by my hunger and exhaustion, I can't stop my pathetic whining. Finding little shade or shelter in the past week, I haven't dared sleeping more than a few hours at a time, not wanting to waste the hours of night I can appreciate. And I have never been some place so dead of animal life, not mention human life. It's pathetic when I can't even find some plump rats to feast on, if only to hold back the hunger. My craving have been so bad that I was tempted to use my mustang to satisfy me last night, but I learned my lesson centuries ago that horses are too skittish to fed upon.

And then my patience finally won out.

Glancing to the wounded youth, I can't hold back a grin at his stubborn nature as he moves with obvious effort, choosing to walk along side my mustang instead of joining his sleeping woman on top of the beast. But even battered and tired as he appears, the native has a natural grace about him which adds to his cold beauty. Who knew such a treasure existed in this wasteland of dirt, brittle sagebrush, and rock.

Feeling my gaze upon him, the Indian looks at me sharply, his eyes of blue-gray icy with their accusatory edge. Before tasting him, I should have know that he wasn't a pure blood. Though dark, the long hair tied tightly into a braid is shades lighter than his companion's raven strands, and the skin of his shirtless body seems darkly tanned, not his natural color if protected from the sun. Add in those intriguing pale eyes, and his different background should have been obvious, but then, I haven't met many Indians out here. There were two I fed upon before crossing the Mississippi, but they were drunk and their blood sour. This young native is far more satisfying to my tastes.

Unable to continue meeting my gaze, the dark-haired man returns his attention to the plains before us, somewhat disappointing me. But then he speaks in that quiet but firm voice of his. "You are not a vampire."

I smile at the accented voice and the slow way he speaks, the man not completely comfortable with the English language. But with time and practice, I imagine he could become fluent. A shame he won't have that opportunity. "Believe whatever you like, lovely. It doesn't change our deal."

"But you are... fine with the sun..."

I huff, tempted to point out this stifling outfit I'm forced to wear. "Young vampires can't handle the sunlight, but we become tolerant with age, and I haven't been a child for a very long time."

He frowns, not revealing his thoughts, though I wonder if he even knows what the word 'tolerant' means.

"Well, you got your answer, so it's now my turn to ask a question."

That makes him look at me once more. "What?"

I make a tsking noise at his bewildered tone. "It's unfair for you to learn everything about me without revealing anything about yourself. Now, how about a name?"

He hesitates before simply replying, "Squall."

"Squall... Interesting that you have an English name. I assume that your mother named you?"

The dark-haired man shrugs, wincing as his arm injury is pulled in the process.

Readjusting my hat once again, I sigh at the realization that my horse makes a better conversationalist than this dour man. It's a shame that he is too strong willed for my manipulations. He could experience so much pleasure by my hands, but instead, he chooses to be difficult. Then again, I haven't had a nice challenge in a very long time...

"What about yours?"

I blink at the unexpected question and glance in the brunet's direction. "Mine?"

"Your name," he clarifies without meeting my eyes.

"A-ah, it's Seifer. Seifer Almasy."

For whatever reason, he frowns vaguely at my answer, perhaps not expecting a dark being like myself to have a name. Sooner or later, I'll have to figure out how much this Indian knows about the legends associated with my kind. It would be an annoyance to wake up with 'holy water' splashed in my face or to have the stench of garlic following us wherever we go. Occasionally it is amusing to witness a human's surprise and disbelief when such tactics fail to affect me, but more often than not, it typically isn't worth the ruined clothing and the headaches from dealing with such nuisances.

The rest of our journey is fairly silent with this 'Squall' avoiding any small talk and his woman still asleep on top of the mustang. While that makes the day as dull as hell, it gives me the time to think through my unexpected gain. Only this morning I was wondering if I'd make it through this trip without suffering from starvation, which would have made me vulnerable for any attack, human or otherwise. That is certainly one thing I can't afford with this trip westward. I don't care what happens to me once I have completed this mission, but until then, I'll do whatever is necessary to survive.

With the eventual setting of the sun, I smile faintly in relief as I push off my hat and let it rest on my back, letting it hang by the attached leather strap hooked around my neck. Feeling more at ease with my full field of vision returned, I glance around at the changed scenery compared to this morning, the desert replaced with spots of plush grass, flowering bushes and thin trees. There must be a river nearby for such a dramatic change.

When the relative silence is broken by the sound of a bird cry, the call obviously fake to my hearing, I smirk broadly at the native. "I take it that you aren't going to reply?"

Squall looks at me sharply, his pale eyes hiding little of his surprise that I knew we were being watched. Then realization dawns in those stormy blues about how I may react to such a situation, but it's too late by that point.

With the sound of the first arrow being fired, I automatically drop into a slower time, everything around me appearing stopped in place, except for the incoming arrows flying at a sluggish pace. Avoiding the missiles, I walk casually to the other side of the mustang to where Squall stands. Turning, I glance at the approach of the arrows, my eyes narrowing when I notice one far off its mark, but aimed perfectly for the brunet's head. I place a hand around the man's shoulders and wait for the approach of the single arrow, not grabbing onto the wooden staff until it is mere inches from between his eyes. And at that moment, I switch back to normal speed.

Several things happen at once - the horse screams as a few arrows aimed for my original position hits the unlucky beast, the Indian woman finally breaks out from my sleeping spell as she falls from the bucking horse, and Squall tenses in my hold. Blue-gray eyes cross vaguely to stare at the arrow I still held, but his expression remains stony as he grabs onto my wrist and makes me lower the weapon.

He then yells something at the surrounding bushes, the language completely unknown to me. It's inconvenient to not understand a damned word of his language, that right now he could be telling them how to kill me with a well placed arrow. At least in Europe, enough of the languages are similar enough to assume a translation, but this native tongue is something entirely new to me.

No reply comes to the brunet's demand. Instead, I easily hear the soft clicks of reloaded bows. Fools. Do they think they blinked or something to convince themselves that they'll hit me this time? Readying myself to take Squall with me, my hold tightens around his shoulders, earning myself an odd glance from the native.

But before the first shot is fired, the Indian woman screams out something in both pain and anger, her hands grasping onto a most likely broken ankle. After a few deep breaths, she adds something in lower tones, her voice deadly in a way that only women can manage. Shortly following her words, several black-haired men step cautiously from their hiding places, their little bows still armed with arrows.

"Do they think they simply missed the last time?" I ask the man still in my hold.

He ignores the sarcastic question. "You said my tribe... you will not hurt them?"

"Your own tribe mates," I mutter while snapping the arrow in my hand, amazed that Squall doesn't care how one of those men almost killed him moments previously. But his issues are none of my concern. "A deal is a deal. Though if they push me too far, I may decide that you're not worth the trouble."

Squall nods, accepting the condition. Then, in a softer tone, he says, "You saved my life."

I stare into his cold eyes, wondering what type of rules his tribe may have about such an event, but I can't pretend that I didn't do it for my own selfish purposes. Removing my hand from his shoulder, I tell him, "Don't worry about it. You'll just have to save my life the next time."

Squall watches me silently as if judging my sincerity, but he is soon distracted by the call of his name from the raven-haired woman. Sparing me a final glance, he hurries to her side and questions her softly, most likely about her injuries. Her dark eyes glare at me with fury, the woman obviously displeased with my presence, and once Squall manages to explain the situation, her anger changes from rage to pure disbelief at the gray-eyed man. Lord, if I have to suffer through her whining for the rest of today...

Squall speaks a final sentence before leaving the woman to her wordless fuming. Ignoring the others and their glares, he approaches me and says, "You and I will die this night."

I laugh, not honoring the absurd statement with a true reply. If anyone will die tonight, it would be Squall alone, and he isn't allowed to die until I've had my fill.

The brunet stares at me for my reaction, those blue-gray eyes then shifting away with a soft gleam. "I thank you."

Smirking, I place my fingers at his chin and force him to look at me. "Never assume that I act for anyone's interest but my own. You are no use to me dead, and that is that."

He stares at me with an unreadable expression, seemingly unafraid of my touch as the glove stained with his blood brushes against his skin. Then, with no apparent reason, the corner of his lips curls into a vague smile before he slips out of my hold to walk in the direction of the injured mustang which hadn't traveled far after the attack. Though confused and curious about the brunet's reaction, I decide to push aside pointless question and follow him to help the poor dumb beast. After riding that flea bag all these weeks, I suppose I've gotten attached to the thing. A shame that it would be best to desert him come morning. I don't want to stay with these 'Injuns' longer than I must.

* * *

[Squall]

"<I still don't understand why you surrendered to that _devil_. >"

I say nothing to Rinoa, tired with explaining my actions when she refuses to see anything from my point of view.

"<You rescued me from that foul man and his kin by yourself, and you expect me to believe that you couldn't handle one white demon? And how could you let him mark your neck in such a... suggestive manner?>"

While tempted to remind her that she herself experienced the manipulative power of the vampire, I choose to hold my tongue and let her complain to her heart's desire. As she talks, my mind wanders to the attack, to the moment when I stared helplessly at the arrow which flew directly for me. I had felt resigned at that point, knowing that Nida and the others were waiting for any excuse to 'accidentally' be rid of me. Not like other 'accidents' haven't happened before. But then the arrow had stopped and I felt an arm tight around me, protecting me...

"< _Squall_ , are you listening to me?>"

I glance into concerned dark eyes, not replying the obvious that I hadn't heard a single word.

Rinoa sighs in defeat and her hand brushes aside dark strands of hair from her face. "<Don't go with him. Help us kill him.>"

I shake my head. "<He saved my life. I cannot take his life in return, and we made a deal.>"

"<There is something dark and malicious about him.>"

"<And yet, he let you and the others live when he could have easily killed us all.>"

"<Why are you defending him?>" she asks in frustration.

I scoff and turn around to face the exit of her shelter. "<He is a demon and a white man. I'm not defending him, but the honor of our contract.>"

"<Wait, don't go.>" I glance back at her and find Rinoa smiling sadly. "<You came to say 'goodbye' and I attack you like this. I'm sorry, but...>"

I nod, understanding that she hates the man who is stealing me away from her protection. I approach her bed of furs and kneel down so that she can reach me. Slim arms wrap tightly around my neck and she buries her face against my chest. I place one hand at her lower back and one on top of her head to stroke the silky black hair.

"<If I said I love you, would you still go?>"

"<You know nothing can happen between us.>"

Rinoa sighs and hugs me tighter. "<I could go with you.>"

"<With a broken ankle and bruised ribs?>" I pull back from her and kiss her forehead. "<Your father needs you here, and you should be married soon enough.>"

"<How can you be so cold about this? I may never see you again.>"

I bite back the words that I probably won't survive to see the next full moon, but I don't need to give Rinoa any other reason to worry about me. Instead, I whisper a final goodbye and stand up to leave her shelter, ignoring her soft sniffles. The night air is cool along my skin, not quite cold enough to require a shirt, but my skin shivers at the first brush of a chilling breeze. As I walk to the edge of village toward my shelter, my thoughts drift to the past, about all of the times Rinoa watched over me, a boy of mixed blood who lost his parents at a young age. It isn't surprising that she thinks she loves me when it's nothing more than a sisterly love for a weak friend. And with her father being one of the elders, Rinoa is too good for my impure blood, something that has been reminded to me time and time again.

"<Is our little squaw going back to his white master?>"

I glance up at the voice, unsurprised to see Nida blocking my path. Having no urge to argue with the man, I meet his gaze long enough to prove my lack of fear where he is concerned, and then move to step around the man. Suddenly my injured arm is grabbed by an unnoticed man, my limb twisted until I'm forced to my knees.

"<Now, why are you in such a rush to meet with that demon? Perhaps to plan something against our tribe?>

I glare at the dark-eyed man for his blindness. But even if I were to speak, neither Nida nor anyone else of his group would listen to me if I were to say that Seifer could kill them with hardly a thought. Only our verbal contract is keeping these people safe, and even that deal may not be enough if these idiots were to do something foolish.

A bare foot kicks against my bandaged side, making me see spots and gasp in unexpected pain.

"<Talk, you stupid woman. What are you planning against us?>"

"<Nothing,>" I hiss out. "<I'm leading him away from here in the morning.>"

"<Hn, the elders may have believed such lies because you saved Rinoa before we could, but I'm not fooled. Why lead him away when you could kill him tonight?>"

"<He saved my life.>"

Nida kicks my injured side again. "<Because you were too stupid to get out of the way. Are you deaf, squaw? Didn't you hear the signal?>"

"Enough."

The deep voice makes Nida turn sharply to glare at the white man for his intrusion. I glance up more slowly, my eyes widening at the sight of the shirtless man. Seifer had been wearing his heavy clothing all day, even his neck covered by the warm material of his shirt. I never imagine what his bare body would look like, and now I can't pull my eyes away from the muscular torso covered in pale golden skin, the contrast of his dark pants causing an illusionary glow around the man.

Standing in a casual pose, Seifer purposefully rests a hand on the pistol I witnessed him using earlier today. "Release him."

Though they shouldn't understand the words, my arm is freed and Nida's friends take several steps backward. Carefully, I move my injured arm to my chest and cradle it while I stand up. Without moving from my position, I look into green eyes and find them flashing with a cold energy. Meeting my gaze, Seifer nods at the entry to my shelter in a sign to move forward. I hesitate long enough to be certain I was under my own control, and then walk toward the large man, easily side stepping Nida's attempt to trip me.

"<Go pleasure your white master, squaw. Good riddance to you.>"

I ignore the taunt, and step in front of Seifer in the clear sign for him to move inside before me. Once in the dark comfort of my shelter, I step to the collection of furs and kneel down before carefully stretching out along the comfortable softness. The bed feeling warm against my bare skin, I wonder if the previous encounter woke the vampire from a nap. Bastard, assuming he could occupy my bed.

"Why let them treat you like that?" Seifer asks, standing directly above me.

I shrug, unable and unwilling to explain that it's pointless to fight when I'm already injured and I need to save my energy for the trip in the morning. Though I still believe we'll be lucky to see the light of day tomorrow. I earned a favor by saving Rinoa, but sheltering this demon could be asking too much of the elders.

With an exasperated sigh, Seifer kneels down and presses his hand against my chest to roll me over onto my back. "I see you had your injuries treated. How do you feel?"

"Tired."

He smiles softly. "Not surprising, but I'm not done with you tonight."

I stare into his bright gaze, easily recognizing his hunger as one of his fangs slips over his lower lip. And suddenly I realize why he wants me, that he needs a damned feedbag during his travels. While I still haven't an idea why he selected me specifically, I surrender to my choice to deal with the devil and turn my head to make my neck more accessible to the vampire.

Seifer hums with pleasure as he moves to straddle my body, his bare chest soon pressed against mine. He licks my neck, trailing upward to kiss behind my ear. "It has been a while since I had a willing donor," he says quietly before nibbling at my earlobe. "Try to relax. It'll hurt your first time, but I hear that it gets more pleasurable with time."

"You hear...?" I repeat, unable to calm myself completely. I'm trusting a murderer to feed on my body without killing me... Someone must have hit my head when I was rescuing Rinoa. There's no other possibility for me to be this senseless.

"You aren't my first donor, lovely," Seifer murmurs, his too sharp teeth scrapping against my neck.

As warned, the bite is painful as thick fangs pierce through my skin. As I try to not cry out, a quiet whine escapes my tightly closed lips, making me feel even more the fool. A calloused hand immediately goes to my waist and slips to my backside to rub with massaging motions in the attempt to soothe me. But that touch does little to calm me as I can't help but to focus on the drawing sensation at my neck. I've already lost too much blood today, and surely his hunger will make the vampire feed to his fill. I can't imagine myself surviving this...

Suddenly the fangs are gone, replaced by the touch of warm roughness as Seifer licks at the wounds. "You can breathe now."

I frown at his mocking tone and move to get away from him, but a hand goes to my chest and prevents me from moving anywhere.

"Stay there. You should be lightheaded for a while, even though I didn't take much."

I stare up into his eyes, surprised to find the man smiling softly at me and his hunger apparently sated for the time being. Seeing his pupils dilated with pleasure and his face showing a vaguely flushed appearance, I abruptly become very aware of his closeness. No one has laid down with me in such a familiar fashion before, and the demon seems far too pleased about the situation. And whether from exhaustion or otherwise, I find that my body no longer responds to my silent demands as I lie helplessly beneath the larger man and stare into his poisonous eyes.

"So innocent," Seifer whispers before kissing the corner of my lips. Before I have the sense to complain, the vampire moves off of me and stands with unnatural grace for a man of his size. "Go to sleep, lovely. We'll leave shortly before sunrise."

Though I feel his manipulative power wrapping around me, I can't resist the suggestion to sleep and to trust Seifer to keep us safe during the night hours. And considering the disastrous day I managed to survive through thus far, I decide that it isn't worth it to fight that power which can help me find sleep when my thoughts would keep me up otherwise. The decision made, I glare halfheartedly at the vampire in the clear sign that I know what he is doing to me, but I am allowing him this brief moment of control over my mind. And staring into those amused and interested green eyes, I fall directly to sleep.

* * *

[Seifer]

Standing at a respectable distance behind the small gathering, I watch Squall speak with the apparent leaders of his little tribe. While I wanted to leave before the sun rose, I had forgotten about the human necessities the native would need while traveling. At least Squall was fast and efficient about gathering food, water, and small personal items which would fit in a saddlebag. We were about to leave when these older Indians appeared and demanded a word with the brunet.

Uninterested in the others, my eyes focus on the somewhat small frame of the native, regrettably dressed in loose clothing which does nothing to display his lithe figure. Perhaps he'll decide to go shirtless during the warmer hours of the day. But that musing is cut short when I see Squall remove a long knife from the sheath at his side. I briefly wonder if he has finally been ordered to kill me himself, but instead, I witness him cutting off his lengthy braid, which he then drops to the ground along with his knife.

Turning sharply on his heels, Squall walks toward me with his face downcast and his eyes hidden by his shortened hair. He tries to sidestep me and move for his horse, but I easily stop him and force him to meet my eyes. The sight of pale eyes hardened with cold fury makes me smile as I move my hand from his chin and finger the shorter dark brown hair.

"I'll have to fix this later," I say, purposefully not asking why he did such a dramatic thing.

He jerks his head away from me. "It is not..." Frustrated for words, he motions his hand in a dismissing manner.

Understanding his meaning and not wanting to become the focus of his anger, I nod and allow him free passage to his horse. Meanwhile, I move to my poor mustang, the beast still feeling its wounds from the attack yesterday. I could have probably convinced one of the Indians to trade me horses, but this fleabag has gotten me this far and I hate the idea of leaving him behind. Most animals shy away from my smell, but this stupid beast doesn't care as long as I treat him to the occasional sweet. And as I feed him a couple small sugar cubes, I know that I've gotten horribly soft over the years.

"You're not going to say 'goodbye' to your woman?" I ask while rubbing my mustang's velvety nose.

"Rinoa is not mine, and I said 'goodbye' last night."

"Oh? For you to risk your life like you did, I assumed she was important to you."

Squall says nothing in reply as he grabs onto his horse's lead and begins our journey westward. I shake my head in resignation that I had chosen a lousy traveling partner, but at least a desirable one. With a light pull on leather reins, I allow my mustang to decide on his own pace while we follow Squall, the native eventually slowing his horse so that we walk side by side. With only the sounds of hooves and feet on dry ground disturbing the silence, we travel at a leisurely pace away from the small tribal village and return to the desert landscape of low hills and dry plants.

Eventually unable to hold my silence, I ask, "Your name is 'Squall', right?"

The native glares at me for the question. "Yes..."

"Good. I thought I heard those idiots calling you 'Squaw' last night and I was wondering if I had it wrong."

His face pales vaguely at my comment, and his blue-gray eyes move quickly to avoid my gaze.

"They did call you that," I guess after seeing his reaction.

He hisses something in that language of his before saying, "'Squaw' is a... bad word for 'woman'."

"Hmm, then I suppose you won't miss everything about leaving that place."

Squall lifts a hand to finger the dark strands his hair. "You will kill me?"

"Eventually, yes."

And being the odd person he is, the native relaxes at my confirmation. "Then it is not very bad."

"What about your family?" I ask, curious about not seeing another white person amongst the Indians.

"Dead."

"As simple as that, hn?"

Squall doesn't react, a cold force in the middle of a desert. And yet, I know the warmth of his body and the softness of his sun-loved skin. Even with the distance between us now, I can smell the dried blood on his bandages, which then reminds me of his taste. Instantly my cravings stir as I think about the mere sampling I had last night, but Squall couldn't afford to lose much more blood. The amount I had should last me the week, but with temptation walking at my side, the next several days are going to be too long for my like.

"Where are we going?"

I smile at the hesitant question. " _I_ am going to 'Cisco. I'm not certain how long I will keep you around."

"Is that where you see the... big water?"

"You want to say 'ocean', and yeah. San Francisco is a port city, right up against the Pacific."

Squall hums out his interest, but nothing more. Not even to mention that he wants to live long enough to witness the vast salt waters which I assume his mother told him about. Seems like this woman told him plenty of stories in his past. Strange that he isn't much of a talkative person himself.

"So, what do you do for fun on a long trip?" I ask, lowering my hat further over my eyes. Damned sun. I wish I could sleep away the day in the safety of a windowless room and on a thick mattress fitted with fine silk sheets.

"... ..."

"Come on, lovely. Don't you know of _something_ to make the time pass faster? We just left and I'm already bored beyond reason."

The dark-haired man looks over at me as if I were insane. "You got this far alone."

"Tch, and I spent most of that time talking to my horse for the sake of something to do beyond staring at dirt and rocks all day long." Receiving no response from Squall, I sigh out in frustration and suggest, "Perhaps I could interest you in a travel song? I learned one a few weeks ago called 'I've Got No Use for Women'. Have you heard that one?"

His pale eyes narrow further.

Though highly tempted to start singing to further irritate the native, I settle for a broad smile. "Fine, then you figure out how to keep me entertained."

Turning his gaze to the vague trail ahead of us, Squall mutters something under his breath, unintelligible to my hearing.

"What was that again?"

He sighs and then says more clearly, "If you have to talk, then talk stories."

Noticing that he was purposefully avoiding my gaze, I realize that the native truly wouldn't mind listening to some tales. "You're a listener, aren't you? You hate to talk or hear about random nonsense, but if a person has something interesting to say, you are all ears."

He huffs. "You want to talk. I am fine."

I breath a chuckle at his poor lie. "Alright, I'll play your game, lovely. Just don't mind me while I talk to myself."

The morning hours pass by quickly, random tales popping into my head as I go into them with obvious exaggerations, but no good story is completely truthful. Occasionally I drop into quieter tones, amusing myself as Squall subtly moves closer to better hear me, unintentionally taunting me with his scent. And once I return my voice to normal levels, he retreats to a safer distance. That is, until the fourth time I play that game, and for the rest of the morning, he stays closer to my side.

When the sun eventually reaches its highest point, I point out a rocky hillside where a collection of dead trees seem to be providing decent shade. When Squall doesn't protest to my suggestion of a rest, I know that I made a wise choice to break for lunch. Even if the injured native wouldn't admit he is tired, I'm certain that my mustang could use the rest and I was prepared to use that excuse.

Seated against a fallen boulder, I sprawl out in the shade and wish that I could wear something less stuffy than this damned shirt with its high collar. Squall chooses a spot in front of a tree, far enough to be safe from my reach, but not too far to prove his distrust for me. From a small pack, he removes a piece of flat bread and begins nibbling on the dry looking food. Purposefully placing my hands behind my head to still them, I watch him chew carefully and follow that first bite with a drink of warm water.

Noticing my eyes on him, Squall frowns slightly. "Did you want food?"

I smirk at the idea of him offering food to his eventual executioner. "Solid food doesn't agree with my body."

His gaze shifts downward quickly, the native probably remembering that I'm a fearsome vampire who survives on the blood of the living, and not the simple white man who had been telling tall tales all morning. And sadly, it disappoints me that I lost that moment of being human in his eyes.

Lifting his hand to lightly finger the remaining bruise on his neck, he asks, "Are you... hungry?"

"Always. But don't worry, I'm going to wait until you're refreshed and better able to satisfy me."

Squall shakes his head. "Why me?"

I shrug, still not certain myself why I chose him as a temporary donor. Probably because of his strong blood and his weakened body, not to mention the possibility of my half-starved mind making poor decisions. Discovering that he is a man of strict honor was a nice bonus, ensuring that he won't betray me since I resisted feasting on the people of his tribe, but Lord, it was tempting. Not for my hunger, but to get rid of the bad taste in my mouth that I got while saving Squall from an arrow fired by his own people. And he did nothing to them... I can't decide if that makes the native stronger or weaker than me.

"Squall..."

He looks up from the meager meal he had returned to eating.

"What would it take for you to kill a man?"

Pale eyes shift down to the dry ground as he sips more of his water. "If my people are hurt bad."

"Or if your woman is taken?"

"Rinoa is not mine."

"So you said before," I mention, and then ask, "What would you have done if you found this Rinoa killed by those men?"

Lifting his head, Squall looks at me with an unreadable expression. "I do not know."

"Come on, lovely. Surely you imagined it beforehand, that if you found her beautiful skin bruised, her body violated, her throat slit... Would you have killed them all silently from a distance? Or would you have slaughtered them and left them in the middle of the desert for everyone to see? Maybe bring a present home to her father?"

He considers my words for a moment. "She was safe. I did not need to do that."

I chuckle at his cautious response. "When I put your princess to sleep, I swore that you were about to kill me though you were injured and weaponless. I was surprised and maybe a bit disappointed that you gave up so quickly."

Blue-gray eyes flash coolly, but Squall doesn't offer any comment.

"Tell me. What would you have done to them?"

After a short pause, he smirks softly in a vindictive manner. "A long death. I wanted them to feel fear."

"Like Rinoa's fear..."

The native straightens at my quiet words, and then nods. "Like her fear."

I sigh, annoyed with myself for starting the string of questions which makes me think about my own loss. I should have known better. Noticing Squall's examining gaze on me, I move my hat to cover my face. "Finish your meal. We should leave shortly."

While hesitating, the native returns to his lunch without further comment aside from a quiet huff. Trusting the man to hold his silence, I try to purge darker thoughts from my mind and sift through my memory for brighter tales about foolish pirates and fair maidens, hoping that the dark-haired man would be later distracted by stories concerning the ocean. The last thing I need is for him to stare at me with those sharp eyes of his and question why I'm heading westward. I don't want to dwell on the future when it will only make me think of the past, and nothing can be gained from thinking about my waste of a life. Nothing but pain.

 

{Continued}

 

Author's Whining -- And this is for those of you who feared the vampire request being too cliché - a Western vampire story. *laugh* Yes, I'm a nutcase. Actually, I have never read a western, so I know that this chapter doesn't have the Western twang, but since Seifer is technically European, he doesn't have the 'cowboy' background. That said, I can also see him enjoying that type of culture far too much. That '[I've Got No Use for Women](http://lonehand.com/cowboy_songs_II.htm#I)' song does exist, btw. While the song is dark, the title made me laugh. =P

For those interested, the original request was for: "It's basically set in a small village, when a plague hits, or so people believe. They don't understand why a vast number of people are dying. Curious to this reason one would search in an old library, only to find the cause of it all. Instead of a disease it would be a vampire. (Hopefully played by Seifer. >>;) Who finds it quite amusing that the people around him panic over such a small thing. In exchange for the remaining people in his village the boy offers himself to the vampire......" Well, that was obviously too easy for me, and after watching a documentary on Billy the Kid, I got the urge to do something set in the Old West. Luckily Vinnie no Neko was nice enough to indulge me and agreed to this silly idea. I hope you won't be disappointed by this fic, Vinnie. =P


	2. Chapter 2

[Squall]

Giving into weakness and frustration, I forcibly remove the tight and awkward shirt from my body and toss it to the corner of the dingy room. Groaning in relief, I scratch at my skin and glare at the piece of clothing newly bought for me by the vampire. I had argued against needing the change of shirt and pants, but Seifer had already taken advantage of my absence during a bath and stole away my clothes to send them out to be cleaned. The bastard didn’t even ask for my permission beforehand, and I am positive that he enjoys to watch me suffer in these horrid clothes which leave no room for proper movement.

With a defeated sigh, I scold myself for allowing my pent up anger to get the best of me. Ever since stepping into this inn the night before last, I have felt eyes upon me. Most are from those disapproving of my obvious mixed blood, and while the owner of this place seemed to share a similar viewpoint, Seifer’s money quickly silenced the heavyset man. But due to the uncomfortable situation, I haven’t dared to journey far from this room, only leaving to have my meals under watchful green eyes and then this morning to take the bath which left me lacking clothes. Trapped and stressed, I find myself acting out on my emotions more than usual, and I hate that I've lowered myself to such pathetic levels.

Moving to the bed, I sit down on the thin mattress and lean against the cool window to stare at my reflection in the glass darkened by the night sky outside. My hand automatically moves to my hair, the feel of shortened strands still awkward despite over a week passing since I had sliced off my lengthy hair in a sign of shame toward my tribe. They wanted me to go against my pledge to Seifer and kill him when given the first opportunity. Rinoa's father was crude enough to suggest that I should lure the man with my body. Full of anger and humiliation, I took my knife to the hair which I hadn't cut since my mother's death. It was almost surprising how easily the dark strands were removed, and in an odd way, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I would not return to those people.

Refocusing on my vague image in the glass, I finger the added bangs at my forehead which nearly fall into my eyes. The night after leaving my tribe, Seifer had shortened my hair further to even the ragged cut, the blond man surprisingly skilled with the small knife he wears on his belt. Despite the shame it should represent, I have enjoyed this shorter hair and the way I can feel the occasional breeze against my bare skin instead of the trickle of sweat. I have yet to decide if I'll let my hair grow out once more, but I have a feeling I won't live long enough that such a decision would matter.

The sound of a loud strike against the door startles me, making me jump off the bed and to my feet in a prepared stance. After the noise of fumbling along wood, the door opens wide as Seifer stumbles inside, his drop to the floor prevented as I rush to support the unbalanced man. My first thoughts of the vampire being injured are quickly wiped aside when the large man chuckles and straightens to look at me with dark pupils thinly ringed by green.

"Well, hello there, lovely. Did you wait up for me?"

I frown at smirking man, not understanding the reason for his odd behavior. Before I have the chance think about the situation, his hands are suddenly at my bare side and back, stroking along my skin in an obvious manner and making me tense in surprise.

"Hmmm, were you getting to ready to seduce me, my little _savage_?" he asks, the last word spoken in a husky growl as he leans forward as if to kiss me. Though avoiding his clumsy advance, I get a good smell of his breath and I'm quickly reminded of my father's drunken days when he had tried to forget the death of my mother.

"Have you had too much drink?" I ask, uncertain if a vampire could drink normal liquids if his body wasn't able handle solid foods.

He snickers. "No, I only had a couple glasses of the aba... absa..." After a moment of seemingly intense thought, Seifer shakes his head in defeat of finding the right word. "Anyway, it was the worst wine I ever tasted. But the lady I was with had _faaaar_ too much of the house special and _she_ was quite drunk."

"You took her blood," I state, not really caring about the loss of life as I should.

"A-aw, is the pretty Injun jealous that I drank another's blood?" After flashing me a fanged smirk, Seifer nuzzles his face against my neck and licks my flesh. "Don't worry, my lovely. You are far sweeter than any whore."

Sighing in disgust, I manage to push the larger man away and step to his side in order to guide him toward the bed. Aside from a disappointed huff, he doesn't struggle against my aid, but when he collapses on the thin mattress, Seifer pulls me along with him such that I lie on top of his body. I quickly attempt to retreat, but a hand grabs strongly onto my upper arm and he easily stops me with his greater strength.

"Where you goin', lovely," he slurs in sudden tiredness, his entrancing eyes partly hidden by lowered eyelids.

"No where. Go to sleep."

Though his eyes closed fully at my command, Seifer smiles with a boyish air and his free hand grabs my ass. "We don' haveta sleep."

"You do," I state quietly, trying not to reveal my discomfort with his lustful state of mind.

He pouts. "I don' wanna..."

I don't reply, and instead wait several minutes before I carefully remove myself from his loosening holds as sleep overtakes the vampire. Once standing at the bedside, I stare down at the supposed demon who should be feared and respected. Not for the first time, I think about how I could leave without much effort on my part. I doubt Seifer would even bother to hunt me down since he obviously has other sources for the blood he needs, but I know that I can't leave him. My honor won't allow it, and I think... well, he isn't terrible to be with. I've suffered worse fates.

Leaning over the bed to reach the window, I lower the curtains and cover the glass further with the same heavy blanket we used yesterday to block out the sunlight. Not tired myself, I step lightly to the door foolishly left open by the drunken man and close it with hardly a sound. Taking a seat next to the entrance, I lean forward on my raised knees and silently watch the sleeping man for the rest of the night.

~ > < ~

Ignoring the side glances of the inn owner behind the bar, I continue my slow eating of the meal I had ordered with Seifer's money. Knowing he was able to get little sleep on the road, I decided that the vampire deserved a late morning while the sunlight could be blocked from his body. I myself didn't fall asleep until nearly sunrise, and then woke a short time later with a sore body from sleeping in such an awkward position on the floor. While it first annoyed me to find Seifer sprawled in complete relaxation on the bed, I couldn't bring myself to wake the exhausted man, and so came down here to satisfy my hunger.

As I sip at warm water, the front door to the inn opens wide to let in the glare of sunlight, the event making several patrons of the bar quiet their talk momentarily as they observe person's entrance. This being a frequent happening, I don't bother glancing to the side and instead continue eating my heavy meal of eggs, bread, and some kind of meat. Boots sound on wood as the person walks casually to the bar, and once he asks for a shot of whiskey and a glass of water, the other people return to their discussions with the decision made that the newcomer held no obvious threat.

"Say, old man, I've been looking for someone in these parts. You haven't happened to see a fairly large blond man with green eyes around here, have you?"

While I pause in eating at unintentionally hearing the question, the inn owner barks a laugh as he sets two glasses in front of the stranger. "You just described about fifty men I've seen. Have a name?"

"Yeah. Last I've heard, he goes by the name Seifer Almasy."

"Hmm, sounds familiar, but I can't say for certain."

With some effort, I make myself continue eating my meal to avoid attracting the attention of the newcomer. I can't imagine there being a good reason for anyone to search for Seifer, but hurrying to warn the vampire should only place him in more danger. Instead, while taking another sip of water, I glance at the stranger so that I may be able to describe him later. He appears the typical cowboy, his unimpressive clothing worn and dusty from his travels, and a large gun hangs by a strap over his shoulder. His dark hat hides most of his face from my angle, but his long auburn hair is tied loosely at the base of his neck and falls softly over his sweat stained shirt.

After gulping down the undoubtedly horrid alcohol, the stranger flashes the owner a disarming smile. "So, are you saying that he isn't around here anymore?"

The heavyset man shrugs. "I'm saying that I'm not certain."

The longhaired man huffs a laugh before tossing a coin in the owner's direction. "Right. Thanks for your help."

Before my wandering eyes can be noticed by the stranger, I casually return to my meal and slowly chew on a piece of difficult meat. The man eventually moves from his spot at the bar, but instead of leaving the inn, he walks in my direction with a confident stride. I ignore the man's approach as long as reasonable, but when he arrogantly slides into the seat ahead of me without permission, I have to acknowledge his presence, which I do with a deep scowl.

"So, have _you_ seen the man I'm looking for?" he asks, then tapping up his dark hat to reveal stunning violet blue eyes. While I'm at first tempted to believe him another vampire, there's something wrong with the intense eyes as compared to Seifer's emerald gaze. Something dark. He smirks at my obvious staring. "Well, have you? He's a tall guy with short blond hair and green eyes. Quite the bastard, too."

Choosing to play the ignorant savage, I return my attention to my plate, but before I can eat the selected forkful, a gloved hair reaches out to grasp my chin and make me look into the unusual eyes.

"Where is he?"

"... ..."

Pink lips form a lazy smile and he leans forward over the table to speak quietly. "Protecting him won't do you any good. Whatever he promised you, he'll just kill you in the end."

Realizing that my play at not knowing English is worthless without my long hair and native clothing, I knock away the man's hand and sit back in my chair. "I do not know where he is."

Violet eyes widen slightly, the longhaired man probably surprised at my accent, but his easy smile quickly smoothes over his expression. "But you were with him, right? He'll be back for you, I imagine."

"He tried to have me last night," I say on the whim that this stranger may have seen me with Seifer yesterday and that was the reason for his persistent questioning. "I did not like it."

Eyes narrowed, he states, "He wouldn't have let you go."

I shrug and make to return to my unfortunately cold meal. The stranger doesn't move from his seat, his unusual eyes watching me intently as I eat at a natural pace. With every bite, I plead with the gods that Seifer doesn't decide to wake and stumble downstairs to unknowingly face this violet-eyed man. Of course it's unreasonable to want to protect the demon, but thus far, Seifer has only shown a kind hand towards me and I can't help but to respond to that after years spent within a tribe which held little love for a half-blood.

Abruptly, the longhaired man growls out a sigh and pushes up from the table. He lowers his hat over his eyes and leaves the inn without a parting word. Along with the other patrons, I stare at the stranger's sudden departure, but I figure that it is merely a feint and the man will probably find a position outside to lie in wait for Seifer's eventual exit from the building. Pushing away my remaining food, I calmly finish my glass of water before moving to the bar to ask the owner for a refill.

Eventually I go upstairs to the rented room, and after opening and closing the door silently, I step to the bedside while my eyes glance over the sleeping form of the vampire. Hardly moved from his previous position, Seifer looks at peace from his inner demons and plaguing darkness. It's almost a shame that I have to wake him.

I dump my refilled glass of water on the man's head, the resulting effect immediate as the vampire is suddenly missing from the bed. From behind me, a cold hand encircles the front of my throat and squeezes in an uncomfortable hold as I'm forced back against the larger man.

"What the _fuck_ was that for?"

Despite the threatening tone of voice, I find myself unafraid of the demon. "A man is looking for you."

Seifer tenses at my words, his hold then loosening from around my neck, though he still keeps me close. "And what did this man look like?"

"A cowboy with long hair, purple eyes. He knew your name."

After a moment of silence, the vampire chuckles softly while murmuring to himself, "That pain in my ass certainly knows how to make up for lost time." With a hand placed on my shoulder, Seifer steps back and makes me face him. "Did he harass you much?"

I frown at how casually the green-eyed man seems to be taking this. "Who is he?"

The blond smirks with amusement before moving to the dresser to fetch a towel. "That man is one Irvine Kinneas, a decent vampire hunter with a very annoying stubborn streak. But you don't have to worry about him - he's good at saving his bullets for us demons."

"You met him before?"

"Too many times for my likes, but there's nothing much I can do about it."

Confused by a human causing the vampire such problems, I ask, "You cannot kill him?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Why?"

Seifer pauses at drying his hair, and then smiles softly. "Because I promised to watch over him."

I stare at the vampire, once again bewildered by the man before me. He's supposed to be a monster who lurks in the shadows, but aside from his inhuman abilities, I have yet to truly witness the demon hiding beneath the human skin. And it troubles me that I can't hate this white man, this vampire.

Tossing the towel aside, Seifer begins to pack his meager belongings. "Looks like you'll have to suffer in those clothes for a while longer since we're not going to be around by the time our other clothes are returned."

"He is waiting for you to leave," I remind the man, my frown returning at the thought of traveling in this outfit.

"We only have to keep ahead of him until nightfall. And with you as my hostage, he shouldn't do anything incredibly stupid."

"But he knows I am with you."

Seifer snorts. "Of course he does. Probably smelled me on you from a mile away. But you're still an innocent to him, so he won't try to fire that shotgun of his until he's certain that you're safe from the blast."

Coming to the conclusion that the vampire understands this situation better than I could, I move to the dresser and pack the few items I had left out from my bag. After tying the leather straps to secure the pouch, I turn and find Seifer standing far too close for comfort. Before I can move aside, a gloved hand is at my cheek and his thumb brushes along my lips.

"I'm sorry about last night," Seifer says softly. "It's been a while since I've had blood tainted with alcohol, and... well, I'm a bit surprised that you chose to stay."

I can only stare at him in reply, confused once more by this quiet side of the vampire.

His hand removed from my skin, he smirks with amusement. "Though, I have to say that you must be insane to wake a dangerous vampire like that. I've killed people for less, you know."

"You are hard to wake," I state from experience, and then step around the man with the goal to remove his blanket from the nails holding it up against the window.

"Only when someone watches over me," he murmurs in reply.

I glance back at the odd comment, but Seifer has already turned his back to me while examining one of his pistols. After briefly watching him remove the bullets to be replaced with other bullets which appear the same to my limited knowledge, I return to my task of retrieving the heavy blanket. Once finished with my pack over my shoulder and the folded blanket under my arm, I face the large man and raise a questioning eyebrow at his eager expression.

"Ready to have some fun, lovely?"

* * *

[Seifer]

"Must you laugh so loud?"

The dry tone of the native makes me laugh even louder, the ears of my mustang twisting nervously at the noise. "Did you see his face? He had no clue why that barbarian was calling him out. And when that dog of a wife ran out yelling, 'That's the one! That's the one who seduced me!', I nearly lost it. I almost feel bad for the bastard."

Squall shakes his head in exasperation, but he can't hide the hint of a smile from me.

Given the bothersome abilities of the vampire hunter, I knew that slipping out of the inn wasn't a valid option, especially with several hours remaining before sunset. By chance alone, the night before I had spent a decent amount of time gambling, and during the pathetic poker game, I was forced to listen to the grumblings of the apparent deputy of the small town. He was positive that his wife was cheating on him, but he could never catch her and the mystery man in the act. It was almost too easy to convince the big guy that Kinneas was the man he was looking for. Though Squall and I stayed long enough to make certain Kinneas would be kept busy, we quickly escaped on our horses, nearly killing the poor beasts with the mad dash out of the dusty town.

"I thought you would not hurt that man."

My laughter back under control, I smirk at the native. "I never said that I wouldn't hurt him, just that I won't get him killed. And trust me, no human will ever be able to kill Kinneas."

"You said he was... decent," Squall says in a partly questioning tone.

"A decent vampire hunter, yes. But against humans, he's a damn good gunslinger and very hard to kill."

The native glances at me with his stormy eyes, the examining hint to his pale gaze ever present as if he were staring at some puzzle to be solved. While I certainly don't mind the attractive man studying my body with such intensity, I occasionally fear that he may find something I never knew existed within me. After hundreds of years, a person should know everything about himself, shouldn't he?

"Why is moving until night important?"

I turn away from the sharpness of pale eyes and reach forward to play with the short mane of my mustang. "He can't travel tonight, and he'll be delayed further come morning. It will give us the chance to lose his trail for a couple weeks."

While my explanation is obviously weak, Squall doesn't call my bluff and continues to ride silently with me. Our horses should need rest soon, but I want to cross one more river before sunset. Though finding any source of water in this wasteland is near impossible compared to the lush plains of Europe. Leave it to my mistress to chose a place that would irritate me the most.

"There is a river more north."

I look sharply at the brunet, surprised that he could guess what I was thinking.

Squall smiles softly. "You were... muffling? About no rivers."

I smirk at his attempt to get the right term, pleased that the native is less wary to try unfamiliar words. "You mean 'muttering', and yeah, this damned desert is starting to get on my nerves. Kinneas was never able to find me so quickly before."

"You do not understand the ways of the desert." And with those words, he kicks his horse into a slow trot such that he takes the lead.

"Apparently I don't," I say distractedly, my eyes unmoving from the back straight with purpose. The shortened hair of the brunet bounces with the jerky movements of his horse while his body seems to flow naturally with the beast, an unexpectedly intoxicating sight with the rocking motions. Why did this beauty have to enter my life now?

Following Squall's lead over hard ground and eventually through a shallow river, I keep most of my attention focused behind us for any sign of the hunter. He shouldn't be fooled for long by the Indian's tricks which would prevent normal men from following our trail. But as the sun drops below the horizon, I breathe a sigh of relief that I can delay my meeting with the gunslinger for another day. Soon after the welcomed sunset, we find a decent place to camp for the night in a small meadow near a murky pond of warm water. The horses don't seem to mind the taste of the questionable liquid, and once satisfied, they are tied to thin trees in easy reach of long grass.

While I immediately slump down on plush grass, Squall takes his time to remove his shirt and then glare at it for a moment as if choosing between burning the hated piece of clothing or simply shredding it into potentially useful rags. But in the end, he sighs in defeat and carefully folds the shirt into a makeshift pillow before kneeling to the ground.

"Are you going straight to sleep?" I ask, surprised by my disappointment that he would rather escape into sleep than deal with me for the rest of the evening.

He grunts out something in that language of his while lying down on the grassy ground.

Watching him stretch out that seductive body, I wonder why the hell I didn't take that beauty last night when I had the drunken courage to do so. But another thought plagues me more, making me ask, "Why didn't you point Kinneas in my direction? You could have easily gotten rid of me that way."

Squall says nothing for a long moment before rolling onto his other side such that his back faces me. "You saved me. Now I am yours."

Stunned into silence, I stare at the darkly tanned native, my sight adjusting with the decreasing amount of available light as the evening grows later. Watching the easy rise and fall of his chest, I feel the never ending hunger grow within me, the need becoming enough to make my fangs ache with the desire to bite into his soft flesh and taste sweet blood. Of course I won't let myself feed this night, but with the trusting fool asleep before me and completely vulnerable, baser instincts rise to the surface and taunt me with the knowledge that I can have whatever I want if I would simply take it.

And then suddenly I'm standing above the sleeping man, his skin appearing paler by the light of the moon. Glancing at the healing injury at his side, I can nearly taste his blood at the memory of my first sampling of the half-blood. He should have recovered enough by now such that I can feast longer on his sweetness and his strength. And then, in a few weeks, I'll take him fully and satisfy my hunger with every last drop of his essence. As my lips slip back into a sneer, I wonder at what point the native will begin to resist me as his very life is pulled away from him.

My musings are cut short by the sound of a piercing howl, the call far too close for my likes. I promptly kneel down and place a hand at Squall's shoulder to wake him. His eyelids snap open into full awareness with fear highlighting the pale orbs, but unexpectedly, as he studies my face in the dark of night, the fear slips away and he relaxes beneath my hand.

"What is it, Seifer?"

The question breaking me out of my staring at the youthful man, I stand up and look to the south. "Something may be coming this way and I can't afford to have you lying on the ground like fresh meat."

"Something?" Squall asks while standing, the closeness of his shirtless body horribly tempting despite the situation.

I nod, choosing not to clarify further. "I suggest having a knife available to protect yourself, but leave it to me."

The piercing stare of icy eyes is easy felt, but Squall thankfully doesn't press the issue and moves quietly toward his pack to retrieve the weapons of his choice. Ignoring the sounds of his movements, I focus my hearing outward to listen for any sign of an approach. Time drags from that moment onward, the desert being horribly silent and dull as we are forced to wait.

At the first sound of snapping brush, I smirk and run forward at a fast pace to make certain that this fight will take place away from the vulnerable native. Pistol drawn and held at the ready, I slow near the area I had heard the noise and scan across the plain of brush and dry grass. At the sound of quiet growling, I turn quickly to face the beast, but then lower my weapon at the sight of the mangy coyote. Meeting my eyes, it promptly turns and runs off into the desert with its tail hanging low in a coward's retreat. A disappointed sigh escaping me, I holster my gun and waste a moment to gaze up at the sky already lightening with the coming sunrise. Damn the summer and its longer days.

Turning around to go back to the meadow, I pause at the sight of the native standing in an entrancing pose with an arrow set in his bow and the string drawn back. As I watch from too far of a distance, a large wolf of dark fur charges at him from the west, not from the south like I had expected the mutt to come. The arrow is released with a familiar twang, the short flight of the shaft ending deep into the lower chest of the wolf. Its advance thwarted, the beast lets out a pained howl as it drops to the ground and its lengthy fangs promptly attempt to remove the arrow.

The cry of the large wolf snapping me out of my frozen state, I hurry to place myself between the beast and Squall. With my pistol drawn, I step in front of the native just as the mutt breaks the shaft of the arrow and quickly moves to its feet. No time wasted, the wolf runs forward and lunges at me. Expecting the obvious attack, I knock away the beast such that the butt of my gun lands nicely against the side of its face. Landing on its side, the wolf whines in pain, but lifts up onto its feet once more to shake off the effects of the strike which could have killed a normal animal. More wary this time, the large mutt snarls at me while stepping slowly to the side in a circling move.

I chuckle at the beast's persistence, and then raise my gun to aim between dark eyes. "You should know better by now," I mutter, promptly lowering the weapon to aim for a less vital area.

As my finger squeezes on the trigger, there is an increase to the curl of snarling lips as the beast seemingly smirks at me. Unexpectedly, the creature jumps up just in time to dodge the bullet I had aimed for his foreleg. Surprised that the large wolf was showing intelligence for a change, I lose a spare second, of which the beast takes full advantage as it launches forward into a fast run. There is the brush of fur against my leg as the dark animal rushes past me. Turning sharply, I try to grab onto the mutt’s tail, but the appendage slips through my gloved fingers and the wolf is suddenly free to attack Squall.

A long forgotten sense of horror overwhelms me as I watch the unnatural beast leap to place its claws into the native’s flesh, the legendary abilities of vampires worthless to me with the wolf being too fast and the distance between it and the brunet too short. The large body of the beast blocks the view of Squall from my sight, and for that split second, I feel my heart aching at the loss of the man. It’s too soon for me to feel such ache again. But the moment of self-pity ends abruptly when the wolf cries out in extreme pain. Mildly confused, I watch as the beast continues on an arching path, its hind legs soon lifting higher than its head. Squall comes back into view beneath the creature, the man kneeling with his hands against the underside of the beast as he uses its momentum to flip the animal over his head.

Everything happening in mere seconds, the large wolf lands hard onto its back and reveals the knife Squall had driven deep into its stomach. Smirking at the unrealized skill of the native, I walk up to the fallen mutt and fire a bullet into its ass, something the wolf will be feeling for days to come. Already suffering, it yelps pathetically at the added insult to its injuries and promptly falls unconscious.

“Well, that was a bit unexpected,” I say while grabbing the hilt of the crude knife and jerking out from the limp body. Glancing over at the still kneeling form of the native, my smile is lost when I get my first smell of fresh blood. Instantly I’m at the brunet’s side, his knife dropped onto the ground forgotten. “Did he bite you?”

Slowly, Squall raises his head and pained eyes meet my worried expression. As he straightens, I can clearly see the blood running down both his arms, the thick liquid glistening in the moonlight. With little thought spent on how the native may respond, I lean over and lap at the cooling blood, Squall only flinching at my touch when my tongue agitates the deep slash near his shoulder. With the first taste of his sweetness, I know that the defeated wolf hasn’t tainted this man, but I can no longer control my hunger after sampling what I have been craving for days.

So lost in my taking of his freely flowing blood, I’m startled when his head lightly rests against my shoulder. Leaning back far enough to look at Squall without him losing his support, I lick my lips at the sight of his eyelids lowered such that dark eyelashes brighten his pale eyes. Abruptly, a severe shiver racks the lean figure and Squall presses in closer to me, his free hand grasping at my shirt in a childlike way.

“Are you alright?”

Squall blinks slowly before replying. “He was so fast. I did not see him come, but my knife…”

Realizing that shock has settled over the young man, my hunger is forgotten as I wrap an arm around his back and place my hand at his neck to caress the sensitive flesh.

“I am bleeding,” the native mutters as if realizing it for the first time.

“It looks like the mutt buried its claws into you, but it could have been worse.”

Continuing to stare at a bloodied arm, Squall says quietly, “It will waste like this.”

I smile at being given the permission I never really needed before. But returning to lap at the blood along his upper arm, I find it much more satisfying this way. I clean the tanned skin of blood, reluctantly stopping with one arm when I retrieve his bundled shirt to tear off a piece of the fabric to use as a bandage. Moving to his other arm, I take longer to remove the thick fluid from his skin and savor the taste of his sweetness mixed with the saltiness of sweat. Eventually I hear the dangerous slowing of his heart, but once I wrap a makeshift bandage around his upper arm, I continue where I had left off along deeply tanned skin, trailing my lips and tongue up his shoulder until I nibble lightly at the base of his neck.

"Seifer..."

I smile softly at my sighed out name and then rake my unnatural teeth along his skin.

His hands grab onto the back of my shirt in tight holds, his voice whispering softly, "What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing you don't want," I reply against his skin at the point where his pulse can be best felt. Receiving no resistance from the native, I run one of my hands down his back while my other hand continues to massage the base of his neck in a both calming and vaguely restraining manner. As my fingers slip below the waistline of his pants, the lithe body jerks forward in surprise, the movement of untouched innocence making me smile before I tilt his head to give me more room to taste behind his ear.

With an abrupt gasp, Squall pushes against me and moves to stand, but my arms around him prevent his escape. Though ready to speak a comment to suitably embarrass the youth, I'm silenced by the horrified look to his blue-gray eyes as he focuses on a sight behind me. I sigh at the ruined moment, just now feeling the warmth of the rising sun at my neck.

"Don't tell me that you didn't wonder what a wolf of his size was doing in a desert," I say while removing my arms from the native's body.

Pale lips parted, Squall says nothing while continuing to stare with widened eyes.

"If you have spare medicines, it wouldn't hurt for you to treat him."

Startled by my words, the brunet looks at me briefly to judge my sincerity, and though confusion quickly replaces the suspicious gleam to his eyes, the native stands up smoothly to walk toward his pack. Feeling tired, I sit down on the thin grass and turn enough to view the fallen body while avoiding too much sunlight from shining in my sensitive skin. As typical during the morning after, Kinneas is a mess while lying down on his side, naked as the day he was born. His lengthy hair looks greasy from sweat and dirt, his body being in a similar state with the addition of painful injuries and the smearing of blood. But despite all of that, his expression is one of blissful peace which only the unconscious and dead can achieve.

Squall is soon by the man's side, his elegant hands rubbing some Indian salve into the deep knife wound. "Why did you not kill him?"

"You know he's a fast one. I missed."

Glancing over his shoulder, the native subjects me to his gaze of penetrating ice. "You meant to hurt him, not kill. Why?"

I turn away from his pale eyes, convincing myself that it was merely the sun in my eyes which prompted me to look away. "I already told you - I promised to watch over him."

"But he hunts you."

"It's no concern of yours," I reply harshly, pushing myself up onto my feet. As I walk to my saddlebags, I feel the pressure of observant eyes lessen, and I glance back to find Squall returned to treating the injured man. Anyone else would have died from those wounds, but a wolf isn't allowed to die a simple death. Not even the minimal amount of silver I had fired into his body should kill him, but it will keep him unconscious for the next day or so. Just long enough to get him to a doctor to lessen his pains as his body will rapidly heal the deep injuries. While practically immortal, Kinneas will always suffer from his wounds, especially those which should have killed him.

In the time it takes me to ready the horses, Squall removes the remaining arrow shaft from the unconscious man and bandages all of the wounds with the torn material of his shirts. The hint of a smile that the native attempts to hide while destroying his shirts was not lost to me. But through his quick breakfast and most of the morning, Squall doesn't speak a single word, proving to me his stubbornness at wanting real answers to his questions. He even silences me with frigid glares when I attempt to win him over with tales of the ocean he has yet to hear.

Halfway through a horribly quiet lunch, I finally surrender to his greater obstinacy. "What do you want from me, Squall?"

"The truth," he replies in a neutral tone, as if the truth was the simplest thing for a person to speak.

Pulling my hat lower over my eyes, I look at the unconscious man now wearing my trench coat to protect his body from the harsh rays of the desert sun. "My daughter asked me to watch over Kinneas if anything should happen to her."

Wide blue-gray eyes stare at me with unhidden surprise, the sight making me chuckle weakly.

"She wasn't my blood daughter in either sense of the word if that is what makes you curious. Quistis was an orphan I stupidly took in. She was a pathetic sight, like a doll made of bones and skin. And her blue eyes were so large, their color reminding of the midday sky..." I pause, momentarily lost in the imagines of the past until I shake my head to dispel those thoughts. "I probably should've put her out of her misery back then, but I never could stomach the blood of children."

His food forgotten, Squall watches me with unreadable eyes, which is quite bothersome given my greater ability to judge the emotions of humans. But right now it doesn't matter. I haven't spoken of Quistis since her death and despite my previous worry, it's somewhat reviving to remember the old times. And the fact that I'm speaking to another person who has managed to get under my skin in some inexplicable way, it's somehow less painful.

"It was my fault for not turning Quistis away when she had followed me home like a stray kitten, and I made it worse when she eventually started calling me 'Papa' and I never spoke a discouraging word. It was stupid for a demon like me to..." I close my eyes at sudden images of her mutilated body, her eyelids still flickering with live when I had returned home that one night years ago.

Abruptly there is warmth at my side, and my eyes snap open to find Squall kneeling before me, his hands holding onto one of mine as his shadow protects my face from sunlight. I find silent strength in his gaze, the same hidden power which I can taste in his rich blood.

Lightly squeezing his hands, I continue. "For ten years it was just me and her, and then she began training as a nurse, as if she could atone for the sins I have committed. Anyway, by that time, Irvine started poking his nose into my business just like every other Kinneas hunter before him. Feeling creative, I lured the kid into werewolf territory with the intention of watching a beast tear him apart. Unfortunately the boy was more skilled than I assumed and he survived the night, but not without receiving the bite of a wolf. By fucking chance alone, he ended up in the hospital where Quistis worked as a nurse. Long story short, Fate hates me and they fell in love."

Squall frowns vaguely at my bitter tone, but says nothing.

"She stopped seeing me as much as she used to, but I guess Kinneas loved her enough to have a truce with her 'father'. Then after a couple years, Quistis visited me out of nowhere. At first I was ecstatic to have my daughter home, but with that first hug, I knew about the life she held within her. I was always upset that she willingly risked her life with a werewolf, but to add a child into the mix enraged me. There was no telling until birth if the tainted blood would be passed along, and Quistis herself could have been infected at any point." Sighing, I lower my hat further. "Suffice to say, we didn't have good words that day. If I had known it would've been the last time, I would have tried to restrain myself."

At my pause, Squall moves one of his hands to lift the brim of my hat, enticing me to look into his stormy eyes.

"Why am I telling you these things?" I say in a voice no louder than a whisper. He had asked me a simple question to which I should have given a simple answer, and yet I had rambled on like any fool.

He frowns vaguely in thought before saying, "Some wounds must bleed before they heal."

"I've already bled more than you can imagine."

"Not in the way you need to heal."

I scoff and place my gloved hand on his cheek. "So young and ideal. I should kill you before you learn that this world doesn't let your wounds heal. Instead, old scars are constantly ripped open while new wounds are poked and prodded..." Gazing into his eyes, I find myself with the overwhelming desire to fall back onto the ground and pull Squall along with me to lie down with him, to momentarily retreat from the world while hiding in the brunet's natural warmth.

"Seifer...?"

At the soft voice, I instantly recognize this man as an unexpected source of weakness for me. Standing up from the thin grass, I pull my hat low over my eyes. "Go home, Squall. I no longer have a need for you."

The native glances up into my eyes, his expression unreadable and cold. "I have no home."

"Don't lie. We both know that woman will take you back without question."

Squall frowns before standing confidently before me. "My life is yours."

"And I'm saying that I don't want it," I state tersely. "Go back to your tribe and live a full life."

"No."

I tap up the brim of my hat to better smirk at the brunet's defiance. Gazing directly into his eyes, I say, "Get on your horse and go home."

Instantly, Squall takes a step in the direction of his mustang, but stops in place with a strained sneer for several seconds before abruptly facing me. "Do not control me."

I inwardly curse at his innate resistance toward my powers. "I'm not taking you with me."

"Then kill me."

I straighten at the obvious solution to his stubbornness, but I can't find the resolve within me to take this man. He protected me from Kinneas' snooping, he sheltered me from the sunlight numerous times, and he gave his precious blood willingly. And perhaps I'm tired of playing the monster after all of these years.

But I let none of my inner conflict show as I approach the smaller man while removing my gloves. Placing my bare hand on his cheek, I wonder at the lack of fear Squall holds toward me. Casually, he leans into my touch to better expose his lengthy neck, the sight of exposed pulsing point making my fangs ache in sudden thirst. I bend down to kiss his warm skin, but instead of biting the soft flesh, I focus my energy on coaxing the man into a deep sleep. Squall flinches, and then tries to escape my closeness as he mutters something in his language. But I don't release him, already feeling the strength leaving his body.

Eventually his body surrenders to my wordless demands and slumps to the ground before I catch him. Lifting him up, I take him to where Kinneas is resting unconscious beneath the shade of trees. I kneel for a time and stare at the peaceful form of the native, my bare hand unable to stop touching the warm skin. But reminding myself that I can't afford such distractions, I draw back my hand to remove my hat and place it lightly over his face to block out the moving sun.

"If only this world were different," I mutter, and then promptly scoff at my wishful thinking. Life simply isn't meant to be fair. Why haven't I come to terms with that yet?

~ > < ~

Sitting in a hard wooden chair, I smirk at the sour expression being directed at me by Kinneas, the bedridden man not pleased in the least by his wounds or company. In a rough voice, he asks, "Why are you playing these games with me?"

"Quistis--"

"Don't lie, demon, and don't speak her name," Kinneas interrupts in a hiss. "You killed her, and you expect me to believe that you're following some pledge you made with her?"

Some time ago I would have gotten angry at his words, but these days I'm too tired to care. "I didn't kill her."

"I witnessed it with my own eyes, Almasy. You can't deny your crime when I saw her blood on your hands and lips."

I shake my head, refusing to continue this endless line of discussion. "Whatever you say, Kinneas. Listen, I stuck around for one reason and that's to ask a favor." I hold up a hand when he attempts to interrupt. "I know you don't owe me anything, but all I'm asking for is a few month of time. After that, you can hunt me all you like."

Violet eyes narrow with suspicion. "What are you planning?"

"While it's none of your concern, it has to do with an unsettled score between me and another of my kind."

Kinneas straightens, in the process pulling one of his wounds. "And how many humans are you planning to kill in those three months."

I shrug, not denying that I'll need to keep up my strength as I travel further west.

"Where's your companion?" he asks with a sneer.

The reminder of leaving Squall behind a few days back makes me frown. "He's no longer here."

"I'm certain."

The thus far absent rage overwhelms me at the suggestion that it was obvious I would kill Squall, but once standing, that anger leaves me with a bitter laugh. I _was_ going to kill him. I shouldn't kid myself into thinking that I wasn't planning to fed on him from the start of our 'relationship'. "I take it that you aren't going to leave me alone, then?"

Kinneas frowns in thought before settling back into the pillows of the hospital bed. "That protector of yours messed me up pretty bad. I doubt I'll be moving before the week is up, and then I'll have to find where I stashed my Exeter and clothes..."

I stare at him, surprised that the hunter is going to give me the time I need.

"I made a promise, too, you know. She wanted me to give you the benefit of the doubt." He pauses for a moment of silence before saying, "Tell me again that you didn't kill her."

"I didn't."

Kinneas huffs, then looks out the nearby window. "I still don't believe you, but a few months won't change anything. Especially if you intend to rid the world of another vampire."

I smirk softly at the single-mindedness of the hunter. "Maybe Quistis wasn't completely wrong about you having decent qualities."

"Get out of here, demon. If I see you again, the truce is off."

I nod, but I can't resist asking a final question. "How is my grandson doing?"

Kinneas shifts his eyes of hard amethyst in my direction. "You have no grandson."

Realizing that I had pushed our conversation too far, I leave the shoddy excuse of a hospital and wince once subjecting my eyes to the afternoon sunlight. My steps are slow and heavy as I return to the inn where I had rented a room for the week, not knowing when Kinneas would regain consciousness from the silver poisoning he suffered from. I also didn't expect the longhaired man would quickly agree to a temporary truce, but now I can find my Mistress without the need to constantly look over my shoulder.

With thoughts and plans of the future months clouding my mind, I walk into the inn and pass through the bar without looking at the patrons for a suitable victim for the night. I'll need the blood before traveling, but I can focus on that later. Walking upstairs, I enter my room and quickly shed off my heavy trench coat to drop it on the bed. But standing there, I pause in mid-motion of dropping the coat as my eyes settle on a white hat with a wide brim resting on the stained sheets.

"It is no surprise the wolf hunts you. You are easy to follow."

{Continued}


	3. Chapter 3

[Squall]

"It is no surprise the wolf hunts you. You are easy to follow," I state before closing the door the vampire had left open as per his habit.

Facing the bed, Seifer doesn't turn at my voice, and instead breathes a chuckle before finishing his movement of placing his heavy trench coat next to his white hat on the mattress. "You shouldn't be here."

I don't dignify the statement with a response.

He straightens vaguely, his eyes shifting to the window now covered with a heavy blanket to block out the sunlight. How he could forget to cover the single window is beyond me, but perhaps it is his age showing through that the vampire can be so utterly absentminded. With light steps, Seifer moves to the window and fingers the blanket as if he had never seen the material before.

His voice suddenly rough, the blond says, "Leave. I don't want you near me."

The lack of conviction in his words makes me sigh inwardly. "I am yours."

"Stop saying that!" Seifer spits out, tearing the blanket from its hangers as he turns sharply to face me with blazing emerald eyes. After a breath to contain some of his anger, the blond continues in a softly threatening tone to say, "I didn't save your life for you to follow me around like some starved mutt. I wanted you for your blood and nothing more."

"Then why not drink my blood?" I ask, overly tired of this game. I have no home to return to, and if the vampire doesn't want me anymore, then I have no other purpose in this life except to fulfill the deal between us. But with him trying to get rid of me like a piece of trash, I'm not certain which angers me more - Seifer wishing to break his promise or the lost chance to selfishly escape this life.

"Do you desire death that badly?" the blond asks quietly, the sunlight behind him giving the vampire an entrancing golden glow.

At my silence, the large man steps forward with long strides, the blanket slipping from his hold to lie on the floor as he approaches me. Not slowing his pace, Seifer thrusts his hand forward and captures my throat in a strong hold to force me back against the door. My head knocks hard against the solid wood, the strike dazing me for a time. Blinking away the fuzziness of vision, I stare into shadowed emerald eyes filled with hunger.

Sneering, Seifer asks, "Do you think I don't like the taste of your blood?"

"You do not want it," I find myself replying in a faintly bitter tone. And already my heart is beating faster at the close presence of the larger man, but not from fear despite his threatening actions and aura. I don't think I will ever fear this demon who occasionally whimpers in his sleep and reaches out as if needing bodily contact.

His smirk widens as the blond reaches up with his free hand and rips the bandages from my upper arm, painfully revealing the still healing gashes l had received from the werewolf. Seifer runs his fingertips over the wounds, his skin soon coated with the drops of blood seeping from opened scabs. His eyes never leaving mine, he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks the thick fluid with a throaty noise of pleasure, his lips then closing over the digits to clean them completely free of blood as they slip from his smirking lips.

"You know nothing," Seifer says in a rough voice. Without warning, he uses the hand around my neck to force my head at an uncomfortable angle to better expose my throat for his purposes.

I tense as he bends in close, not from wariness of his bite, but in readiness of another attempt by the vampire to coax me into a deep sleep. Though this time, it appears Seifer is serious about taking what he needs. Unlike times before, there's no warning feel of his tongue before his thick fangs penetrate my skin, the event more painful than I remember. With my lips tight to prevent any sound from escaping, I find my chest aching from the uncaring way he has chosen to take my last blood, his hands on my body only there to restrain me from escape, hurting me with their unbreakable holds.

Even so, I manage to relax with my growing lightheadedness and discover an odd source of pleasure caused by the drawing sensation at my neck. My hands automatically move to the back of the blond's shirt when dizziness briefly overwhelms my senses, but once regaining my balance, I clutch even harder at the soft material and press close to the large man. As my body grows numb to all pain, I smile faintly at this choice of death. My mother always spoke of vampires with a passionate gleam to her eyes, her words flamboyant and romantic while she talked about the dark and murderous demons. I had always found it strange and unreasonable to lust over those legendary fiends, but now in the arms of one such devil, I understand that passionate and irrational desire.

With the fleeting thought that my mother would probably be jealous of me at this moment, I smile wider and close my eyes to imagine her face one last time before surrendering to the ultimate darkness.

~ > < ~

Staring at the ceiling of dark wood with my eyes focused on a large water stain, I think of nothing for a long time as the sense of wrongness enters my mind. My entire body feels heavy and cold except for spots of tingling heat along my skin. Blurry memories of the long past come to mind of a time when I was left hurt and broken in the winter desert, but there isn't the feel of pebbles digging into my bare skin nor the sound of the coyote's howl which seemed to scorn the tainted blood spilt onto the desert floor.

My eyes narrow at the thoughts of blood, the cloudiness of my mind clearing as I remember that I should be dead, not awake to stare at a damned ceiling while recalling my worst memories. The bastard had done it again. Seifer had stolen enough of my blood to make me faint like some woman and then must have left to escape his duty once more. But no matter. He is ridiculously easy to trail, especially when I know his ultimate destination. I refuse to have him break his promise to me. I can't take that from another person, especially not from Seifer.

Abruptly there is a sound from the far corner of the room, and when I turn my head to look upon the intruder, I inadvertently gasp at the feel of a pulled wound. Moving to my previous position, I close my eyes and try to breath through the hurt, and then discover my arms tied to the bed when I attempt to feel the injury which caused me such pain. Panic begins to seep through my numb state, but a warm hand is suddenly on my face and I'm overwhelmed by a smell, an aged scent similar to the fragrance of dried flowers. My eyes opening, I stare into the entrancing green gaze which always seems to drive away the fear.

Seifer frowns, his hand abruptly leaving my face as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Why did you have to be so stubborn? Didn't you think I had a reason to leave you in that damned desert in the first place?"

I glare at the blond, relaying the obvious message that he had made me a promise of death which he has thus far denied me twice.

"When is it going to seep into that dense mind of yours that _I don't want you dead_?!" he shouts, then turning his head away from me with his hand moving to cover his eyes as he sits hunched over in frustration. "I could have been satisfied knowing that you were safe with your tribe while enjoying your Indian princess, but instead, you had to follow me and _push_ me, and give that darker part of me control..."

My anger slips away as I watch the obviously torn vampire, his words spoken with both grief and spite. Reflexively I try to reach for him, my halted action reminding me about my bound state. Looking to my body in frustration, I'm startled by the sight of blood seeping from rings of cuts in my skin, the deep circles containing odd shapes and covered with dark blood. The largest circle perhaps the size of my palm stands out on my chest, while smaller circles containing different symbols have been cut on my wrists and inner elbows from what I can see in this position. Though feeling no pain, confusion and panic overwhelm me as I look to the vampire for answers, my eyes widening at the recognition of dried blood under his fingernails.

Dropping his hand from his face, Seifer looks at me with pity. "You said my name before falling unconscious. It snapped me out of my feasting, but I had taken you too far." He laughs bitterly, "I should have let you die, but before I knew what I was doing, I had already cut the first symbol of 'life' on your chest. I couldn't stop after that," he says while placing his hand over my chest, just barely not touching the bloodied ring of cuts.

"What have you done?" I ask in a voice no louder than a whisper.

Seifer glances at me, his eyes the darkest green I have yet to witness of the captivating orbs. Not answering my question while meeting my gaze, he smiles slowly with a mischievous hint to the fanged smirk, as if he suddenly realized the humor in cutting me and making me bleed. And at that moment, I know I'm seeing the vampire and not the man whom I had come to know over these past weeks. But if the vampire doesn't want my life blood, it makes me fear what else he may desire of me.

Abruptly the large man stands from the bed and walks to the covered window with his long strides. He casually removes the hanging blanket from its nails and folds the thick material before setting it aside on a tall dresser. From around his large frame, I view the faded blue sky of the early morning, the sun not yet making its appearance above the hilly horizon. Walking away from the window, Seifer returns to the bedside, but pulls along a wooden chair instead of choosing to sit with me on the mattress. I want to question him further, to understand what he is planning with me and why he couldn't simply kill me as he promised, but I find myself without words as I stare at the silent man. Unhelpful to my overwhelming confusion, Seifer sits in the dilapidated chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed with fake indifference judging by the anxious tapping of his foot.

My obvious staring of the blond ends when the tingling of my cuts grows stronger, the bloodied rings beginning to itch with an irritating sensation of heat. Looking down the length of body, my eyes widen at the faint wisp of smoke curling up from my feet and wrists. As I struggle with my bonds, I wince as the first bright rays of sunlight stream through the uncovered window and into my eyes. Then suddenly there is only burning, a white heat which sets my skin aflame and makes my blood boil. I must have been screaming, but I can't hear anything above the sounds of my heartbeats, loud and rapid while the life-giving organ deals with the burning blood. I have never imagine such pain with its intensity and searing heat, my reality becoming nothing more than dark agony.

And just as suddenly, it all ends. But unlike the instant onset of the pain, the remaining hurt fades gradually until I can breath normally and force open my eyes to view the blurry image of the ceiling. It's almost disappointing to see the solid proof that I'm still trapped in the human world and haven't been turned into ashes by the unexpected heat. How much more pain must I suffer through?

Coldness touches my leg, the iciness making me flinch before I quickly relax to savor the cooling contact. Glancing down the length of the bed, I remain unmoving as I watch Seifer untie the several ropes restraining me. His expression is too complex for me to understand, his lips twitching between a bitter smirk and a hungry smile.

"The pain will pass," he mentions quietly, guiltily, while brushing his fingertips along the inside of my ankle, directing my attention to the black design remaining there from the once existing cuts. Looking to my chest and arms, I find the same dark lines replacing the bloody lines of before, the odd shapes becoming defined symbols within the circles, but still meaningless to me.

Seifer doesn't look at my face while the bindings are removed with unhurried motions. My mind is void of all thought as I watch the gestures of his bare hands still stained with my blood. Every press of his fingertips against my skin seems to revive that part of my body, creating a stimulating rush of blood along with a deep throb of pain. But I remain motionless as Seifer removes the ropes which had created reddish marks on my bare skin from my earlier struggles.

Bright green eyes briefly glance at my face, the worry and uncertainty of the vampire obvious in the entrancing eyes, but I do nothing to relieve his concerns. He sighs quietly before stretching over me to undo the rope holding my hand close to the bedpost. I feel my heart rate increasing as I watch the rope slip off from my wrist and a vague thought pierces through the cloudiness of my mind - 'almost free'. Time seems to slow as I watch Seifer carefully undo the slipknot of the final binding, the rope then easily unwrapped from around my reddened wrist.

I move before I consciously decide on a plan of action. The blond caught unaware, I easily knock him aside despite the flash of pain it causes me from the still healing gashes along my upper arm and shoulder. My eyes settle on the old wooden chair the vampire had used so that he'd have a comfort position to watch my agony. Grabbing the chair, I throw it hard against the wall across from me, the aged wood breaking in several pieces with a loud crash. Without hesitation, I lunge forward to retrieve a broken leg of the chair, and then turn sharply to face the vampire with my makeshift stake held before me and my back facing the wall.

Seifer had moved in that short time, recovering from his surprise to now stand between me and the single door which leads to escape. His emerald eyes flashing with an energy I haven't seen since the first time we met, Seifer smirks amusedly with an elongated fang overlapping his pale lips.

"And what do you plan to do with that, lovely?"

While I hate the condescending tone of his voice, I know the vampire has every reason to be amused by my attempt to threaten him. No longer moving, I feel incredibly unsteady on my feet and I'm forced to use the wall more as support rather than the simple protection I had intended it to be. But despite my weakness, I tighten my hold on the stake and raise it higher with a surprisingly steady hand.

Humor fading from his expression, Seifer says, "Put it down, Squall. You'll only hurt yourself like this."

"No."

"Squall--"

"No! You _hurt_ me!" I state stupidly, unable to think straight and better explain the betrayal I feel.

The vampire's face darkens with anger. "Earlier you wanted me to _kill_ you, which I almost _did_ , you ungrateful shit."

" _Death_ is not _pain_."

Seifer straightens at my statement, and then speaks in a calming tone, "I've hurt you before."

I shake my head, staring at him with a silent question of 'why?'. Why did he have to hurt me by first leaving me unconscious and alone in the open plains of the desert, and then by purposely inflicting such agony on me while watching on like some spectator? Was it for his sick enjoyment that he saved me from Nida's arrow? From the beginning, have I been some kind of toy to this immortal? But I'm so tired of pain, both the injuries of my body and the unseen wounds which make my chest ache. Why is it too much to ask for it to end?

After a tense silence, Seifer smiles bitterly. "And here I was trying to spare you from pain."

I glare at him for the baseless response, but when the large man steps forward to close the distance between us, I pathetically press back against the wall.

"Stupid savage, crawling back into my life after I tried to protect you from my dark world. And then you had to nearly die in my arms when I've become addicted to your scent and taste..." The vampire stops before me with an odd smile, purposely within reach as if to prove that I won't hurt him with the broken chair leg in my hand. "You forced me to do this to you, to draw you further into the darkness. And yet, marked as you are, you still haven't a clue what curse now ruins through your blood, do you?"

Frozen into place by overwhelming confusion, I can only watch as Seifer mocks my unmoving state by closing his eyes with complete ease that I won't harm him. As he takes on an expression of deep concentration, I almost instantly feel an aching hunger, a dark need which I somehow know is not my own. My body reacts with an odd warming sensation and I have to resist the insane urge to approach the large blond and give him what he desires. And when his eyes open to reveal deep green irises, a whimper escapes my lips as the longing to give him my blood increases tenfold and clouds all my thoughts except the one to not move from my position.

"Stubborn to the bitter end," Seifer says with an oddly pleased smile. "I imagine you could fight off Death himself with a resolve like that."

"What have you done?" I ask in a bare whisper.

"Like I told you before, you were dying and I didn't want you dead." He reaches forward to lightly grasp my hand, and I don't resist as he turns my arm to reveal the dark circle on my wrist. "These runes kept you alive, but their purpose isn't exactly a good one. Well, for you, that is."

I stare at the vampire, suddenly wary of his explanation, but I don't dare stop him.

"Since the first time I saved your life, you have claimed that you are mine, but now... let's just say that I made it official." Seifer jerks on my arm, making me to stumble forward and break my resolve as I press close to the larger man and use him for support. He chuckles softly before bending down to caress my ear with his lips. "You are my blood giver, my donor."

I frown lightly, not understanding. "My blood was yours before."

"True, you were willing to let me feed on your blood, but now you will be driven to bleed for me." His hand caresses my neck, his fingers cool against my heated skin. "These runes trick your body into replenishing your blood faster while also allowing you to survive on little blood as compared to before. In other words, I can feast on you as often as I like and I won't accidentally kill you from overindulgence on my part."

I shiver at his purring tone, the blond obviously pleased with the idea of feeding on my blood with a greater frequency, but thus far I don't understand why Seifer feels guilt over what he has done to me. "Why not ask me?"

"You were unconscious, lovely."

I shake my head. "In the past, you did not ask me."

"Because I wasn't going to do this again," Seifer says quietly, almost unheard except for the fact that he was still nibbling on the top of my ear. He then steps back to meet my eyes, his hand still on my neck in a vaguely restraining manner. "As I already said, the need to lose blood will become a new priority in your life. If you chose to be stubborn and waste too much time without bleeding one way or another, you could potentially die from your veins breaking from the increased volume of blood. Although, long before your body could break down, you will suffer from an overpowering need to lessen my hunger, to keep me satisfied."

"Satisfy you...?" Not hiding any of my disgust, I ask, "You made me your slave?"

Seifer smirks, his eyes seemingly brighter with power. "I made you mine."

His admission sickens me, but disappointment surprisingly overwhelms my other emotions. "<Then, do you hold no respect for me? Am I that worthless in your eyes?>"

His gaze narrowing, the vampire frowns. "Care to repeat that in a tongue I can understand?"

"<Why should I?>" I knock away the hand gripping onto my neck and step back to find myself pressed against the wall with nowhere to go. "<Why should I bother to make the effort to speak in your language when my words obviously mean nothing to you? Perhaps I should bark like a dog and act like the loyal pet you apparently want. It'd certainly take less effort on my part.>"

"Squall--"

"<Why speak my name, _master_? >" I spit out, unable to contain myself any longer. "<You might as well call me 'squaw' and really put me in my place.>"

Green eyes widen with surprise before quickly narrowing with a dark gleam. Never seeing the vampire move, I'm startled by the loud crack of wood next to my head and I stare momentarily at the fist partly embedded in the wall, finding reluctant awe in the demon's abilities.

A quiet snarl escapes the man before he states, "Don't use that word."

Though mildly impressed that Seifer caught the word 'squaw' in my ranting, I continue to say, "<I have no honor left. Why bother to pretend that I'm anything more than a whore to you? You already stripped me of my clothes. Did you miss your opportunity to fuck me before that ceremony, or were you waiting for me to regain consciousness so that you could hear me scream?>"

" **Stop this!** "

My mouth snaps close at the demand filled with the suggestive power of the vampire, forcing me to settle with a hardened glare at the man for controlling my actions. Silence follows as Seifer doesn't speak immediately, his look one of mixed emotions and great confusion. Eventually he settles on a hurt, disbelieving expression as he moves his fist from the wall and places the surprisingly shaky hand against my cheek.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Seifer asks in a vaguely pleading tone.

Refusing to answer, I jerk away my head from his hand in a silent declaration that his touch is unwanted. But not one to be refused, the vampire grabs my chin and jerks my head back such that I'm forced to look into his emerald eyes shining with a faint golden color.

" _Damn it_ , Squall, if you have something to say, then fucking tell me!"

I hesitate to determine if Seifer is trying to control me, but not feeling his taint within my mind, I sneer at the man. "Why do the words of a slave upset you?"

With wide eyes, the blond leans back at my question to stare at my face, but his surprised expression fades to be replaced by a condescending smirk and his eyes narrowed with amusement. I try to turn away from that look, but his hand on my chin restrains me. "So, you were being literal about that slave remark, were you?"

I glare at him for his patronizing tone.

Seifer chuckles before bending in close such that our faces are nearly touching. "You aren't my slave, lovely."

I scoff. "You said I live to... _please_ you, now. How is that not a slave?"

"No, I said that you will have the desire to satisfy me, or rather, to satisfy my hunger. If anything, we are both slaves to this curse of mine. I'm driven to steal blood to appease that hunger, and you will have the urge to give me that blood, but nothing more."

"But you could... _use_ that and make me your slave."

"You mean threaten to not drink your blood and make you crazy with need?" At my hesitant nod, Seifer laughs. "Trust me, you could last longer with not giving me your blood compared to me craving your sweetness."

I frown, not believing the man.

"You are such a difficult creature," the vampire states with amusement, his eyes taking on an odd gleam. "In truth, I could make you a mindless slave if I desired it, and it would be a worthy challenge to break your spirit... But no, I prefer your irritating way of resisting everything I want you to do. It would be disappointing to keep you as a mere slave."

Though fearing to be a fool, I ask, "Then, I am not without honor to you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't waste my blood on someone I didn't respect."

"... ...?"

"Didn't you notice the dark blood that I had placed on the seals before the completion of the ritual? It was necessary to make certain that you would be mine and not a... communal donor."

"What do you mean?" I ask, remembering the sight of the deep red blood covering the cuts on my body. I had assumed that it was my own blood darkened after drying overnight.

"I could have simply placed the runes on your body and let the sunlight mark you as a donor, inviting any vampire to feast on your blood," Seifer explains while moving his hand to my neck and caressing one of the dark circles. "But I'm a selfish man. By adding my blood, I have made yours bitter and sour to any other who dares to taste your essence."

Relaxing under the ministrations of the demon, I gaze into his eyes and realize the deeper meaning of Seifer giving me his blood, it being the one thing that the vampire values above everything else. And with my current curse, I can sense his hunger and understand its persistent natural. I can't imagine that it was easy for him to sacrifice his blood for my safety.

"Squall," the vampire says quietly, gaining my full attention. "I'm sorry, but I'm so hungry right now."

"You are always hungry."

He grins at my poor attempt of being exasperated with him. "Will you give me my blood back?"

I hesitate before nodding, the silent sign of approval prompting Seifer to grab my arm just beneath the healing gashes and pull me in the direction of the bed spotted with dried blood. He guides me to lie down on the thin mattress, something that is surprisingly welcomed given my dizzy state. The large man joins me on the bed, straddling over me in a way that makes me uncomfortable, but I can't put words to my anxiety as I stare into green eyes bright with conquest. To avoid those eyes, I tilt my head to expose my neck, but Seifer stops that movement and reforms our eye contact.

"Let's do this a bit differently, shall we?"

Confused, I watch as he bends down to lightly place his lips on my shoulder and then trails lower along my chest, sensitizing my skin with each heated press. He pauses at a nipple, his fanged teeth grazing around the responsive region and making me gasp at the sensation. Prepared for the pain of his bite, I'm overwhelmed by the absolute bliss of having his fangs sink into my vulnerable skin and draw out my blood. The forgotten stake falls out of my hand and onto the floor with a clatter, but the noise doesn't distract the vampire from his task as he hums in apparent delight.

"What have you done to me?" I whisper, trying to hold back a wanton moan at the sensations the vampire has forced upon me.

After a heavy lick at my nipple, Seifer leans up with a bloody smirk. "I made you mine."

I stare at the blond, my vision of him swimming in and out of focus. Perhaps sensing my weakness, the vampire leans forward to place a hand against my cheek and gaze down at my face with a fond look. Unable to resist, I lay limply as he takes claim of my lips in a softly kneading kiss. While my first instinct is to fear his closeness, I relax into the testing kiss and find comfort under the solid protection of his larger body covering mine. Perhaps it is my lightheadedness confusing me, but I think I begin to enjoy the unwanted touch and the taste of my blood as his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

Pulling back a bare distance, Seifer speaks breathily against my lips. "It's alright, my little native. Stop fighting the need to rest."

And as if receiving the permission I needed, I fall into the cool and calming void of sleep.

* * *

[Seifer]

_It is the overly loud sound of heartbeats which makes me open my eyes and I find myself in a darkened corridor which I have visited many times before. I sneer in disgust at this invasion of my mind and wonder briefly if I could simply turn around and somehow escape this dream, but I know that my Mistress won't release me so simply. After my first hesitant step, I move forward in a confident stride while trying to ignore the lit displays lining the shadowed walls. Like a warped museum, my worse memories are shown in graphic detail for my personal misery and my Mistress' amusement. I used to linger over the various displays - most revealing the grisly deaths of those few men and women who were precious to me, others showing the horrors I caused while in a darker period of my life - but now I pretend the images don't bother me._

_That said, I still pause at the final display and stare into the pained, pleading eyes of my daughter. Her body naked of clothes, all of her wounds are revealed for anyone to see, especially the final injury of her split gut with her intestines wrapped around her throat like a scarf. Only my Mistress knows how long Quistis lived after such brutality, but I was there to witness her death, the only time the smell of blood made me feel ill. She saw me before taking her last breath, her shaky hand reaching out for the comfort she trusted me to grant her, and that is the image this twisted diorama shows me now. My hand pressed against the indestructible glass in a vague attempt to grasp her outreached hand, I apologize to Quistis and damn the fate which brought her to me._

_After pressing a kiss against the cold glass, I turn to the exit of the corridor and wait as large metal doors open wide to reveal an expansive room lit faintly by candlelight and the moonlight which shines through the damaged windows of stained-glass. I stare forward into the room, unable to move as my eyes focus on the image of my Mistress sitting on a broken podium with one of her feet resting on the shoulder of a collared and chained man. Disgusted with myself for letting the woman learn of Squall this soon, I quickly school my expression in the worthless hope that she won't realize how important the native is to me._

_"Don't make me wait any longer, boy," my Mistress states coolly, the voice seductive to those who haven't known her as long as I have._

_"I believe that is your fault for not sending some notice first. I would have cleaned up the place if I knew you were coming."_

_The red-haired woman smiles at my sarcasm, her blood red eyes briefly scanning the ruins of a church. "I've always enjoyed this room. It's so... romantic."_

_Not taking the bait, I step forward while careful of the broken stone littering the main aisle, but stop once reaching the front row of aged pews. "What do you want?"_

_The pale woman laughs. "You used to be far more formal in your youth. I remember an age when you called me 'mother'."_

_"That was centuries ago," I say, reminding the woman that I no longer kill for pleasure and have no interest in her form of twisted love._

_She scoffs. "You are like a sentimental old man these days, but I know you, my child. You will return to your former glory."_

_I shake my head as if pitying her disillusioned beliefs. "If this is all you have to say to me, then you have wasted your powers."_

_When I move to leave, the woman jerks on the chain in her hand, causing the image of Squall to choke and claw at his collar. "Don't turn your back on me, boy."_

_"Go ahead and kill him. I can find another to suit my needs for the time being."_

_Though surprise first appears on her face, her lips colored with dark purple soon curl into a frightful smirk. "I am your creator and mother - you cannot fool me. I know your mind, that you always attach yourself to one of these pathetic creatures to make you feel human. But you **aren't** human, and you never will be. Why can't you accept that?"_

_"It was boring to live the life of a demon, and I hated getting blood all over my favorite clothes."_

_The red-haired woman smiles with false sweetness as she moves from the podium and kneels next to the puppet resembling Squall. With her long fingers curling around the dark hair at his neck, she leans him closer such that their cheeks press together. "Perhaps you would enjoy your proper life if this one joined you in immortality, hmmm? Your lover for all of eternity."_

_"You can't," I state before catching my panicked tone of voice._

_"Are you referring to these little doodles?" she asks while running her free hand along the largest ring of runes placed at the center of Squall's chest. "You forget, child, that we share blood - these markings won't protect him for long against me. I will simply need to find a stronger demon to purify his blood and mind."_

_I bite my inner cheek to stop myself from speaking out. Ever since my rejection of my former life, she has taunted me with the death or transformation of those I have kept close to me. But she wouldn't dare turn Squall once meeting the willful man face-to-face. He would never believe her lies and follow her every command as I had in my youth, and thus would be worthless to her. I suppose Squall may get the death he has desired after all._

_"What, no feeble attempt of a response? No adorable outburst of anger?" she asks while her hand moves lower and long fingers caress Squall's nether regions, enticing a moan from the native. "Do you not desire to protect your newest pet?"_

_"That isn't the man currently sharing my bed."_

_"Oh, so you have chosen to take on a lover this time. Tired of pretending to be a father? Or does this human cry out 'Daddy' when you pleasure him?"_

_The woman finally going too far, I rush forward with all of my speed to steal the image of Squall from my Mistress, and then move to the broken window of stained-glass. Pausing there, I hold the native close to my chest, but my eyes are focused on the neutral expression of the woman, the elder vampire not completely hiding her surprise in my ability to retrieve what is mine._

_"What are you planning, child?"_

_I smirk at her raspy voice no longer hinted with amusement. "Only to better my life."_

_The woman narrows her eyes with suspicion, but I don't give her the chance to question me further and draw out answer from my weak mind. Clutching Squall tight against my body, I leap backwards through the large window and happily drop into the void of escape._

~ > < ~

Without opening my eyes, I'm very aware of my surroundings with every scent, noise, and touch giving me the necessary details to know that I'm awake and pressed comfortably against a warm body smelling of the desert rain. Resettling my arm around the lean waist of the native, I hold him tighter and hide my face against the back of the brunet's neck to block out the remaining sunlight of the ending day. Squall grumbles in protest, but doesn't deny me the need of bodily comfort. Then again, the brunet is fast asleep and probably dreaming of his Indian princess.

I'm not certain why that bothers me more than it should. I imagine I'm still grieving over Quistis and I desire the somber strength of the native, but that isn't my normal pattern. I tend to reject any new relationships until several decades after the previous failure to protect a person I loved, my heart too sore to want another person in my life. But how could I predict finding Squall, a man who numbs the pain and helps me to forget.

"Nh... Seifer...?"

I smile at the sleep-drunken tone of the native. "Sorry to wake you."

Squall shifts slightly and places a hand against his temple. "My head hurts."

"Not surprising - you haven't had much water since yesterday. There's a pitcher on the dresser if you want me to get you some."

He shakes his head and proceeds to crawl out of bed, soon stumbling towards the dresser across the room. I could help the proud man, but judging by his exaggerated steps, he probably needed to stretch out his poor body after all the stress it had been put through in the past week. From the bed, I make no attempt to hide my examination of the lithe form, enjoying the moment of muscle and bare flesh. Despite his tan skin, the two dark circles at his lower back stand out and gives a more exotic look to the native. Thirteen circles in all line his body - the largest on his chest, two at his neck, four on his arms, two on his back, and another four on his legs - every one important in keeping the man alive and filled with sweetness.

His first glass emptied practically the moment after it had been poured, Squall paces himself with the second glass of warm water. Choosing to recognize my blatant staring, he glances in my direction and lowers his glass to reveal a deep frown. I suppose the native has finally wakened from his nap.

"Where is your shirt?"

I smile at his uncertainty. "It got too stuffy in this damned place, so I took it off and went back to sleep."

Perhaps realizing his nudity, or else feeling uncomfortable about it for the first time, Squall turns enough to hide his manhood, but his icy gaze remains directed at me.

My smile widening, I say, "I've already had a good look at your body - no use hiding it now."

Offense burns coolly in his blue-gray eyes, but he doesn't respond to the taunt and chooses to pay more attention to his glass of water.

Sighing, I sit up on the mattress and decide to be serious. "I'm certain I don't need to tell you this, but I know very little about your culture. Is it a sin for you to lie with another man?" I ask, wanting to know why this man can be receptive one moment and disgusted the next.

After a moment of thought, Squall shrugs. "Not a sin, but also not talked about. My mother, she did not agree with our... 'savage' ways with sex. But you not the same?"

I smirk with part relief and part amusement. "I'm from a different era than those of my race, so I probably share your same barbarian tendencies to do whatever feels good. But if that's the case, then why are you afraid of me? Do you hate it when I touch you?"

"No," the native states in a hushed voice while avoiding my eyes. "It feels... good, but I have not liked it in the past."

"Are you talking about our past or your past?"

Though hesitant, Squall glances over to meet my eyes and the bare emotion in the irises of dark gray is enough for me. Someone hurt him in an unforgettable way and I have a pretty damned good idea about whom that someone may be. Picturing the smug face of the man who constantly insulted Squall, I grip the edge of the mattress and squeeze tightly as I imagine strangling the bastard for using such a horribly cheap trick to plant fear in Squall while stripping away his dignity. And I know exactly how efficient rape can be used to subjugate someone and destroy their spirit.

"Seifer...?"

At the wary call of my name, I realize that I had been snarling in anger. I promptly relax my tense pose and force a smile to relieve the brunet's concern. "Sorry. I got lost in some old memories for a moment there. But enough about that - how is your headache?"

Squall frowns at my poor attempt to change the subject, but then sets down his empty glass. "Better."

"Good." Glancing to the window, I say, "There is only another hour or so of daylight left, so if you get more rest now, we can travel come morning. If you will let me, I can place you into a deep sleep so that you'll feel more refreshed when you wake."

His frown deepening, the brunet looks about to argue before demanding, "Promise to not leave me."

"Trust me, lovely, I've learned my lesson that I won't be able to leave you behind. It'll be easier on my nerves to keep you close."

His eyes hard, Squall steps forward to stand before me without a sign of the shier man of before. "Promise me."

Smirking at his determination, I push up from the bed and stand bare inches in front of the smaller man. "Very well. Then I swear that the only thing which may separate us is death."

His confidence lost by my pledge, Squall slips a half-step backward. "That is too much."

"It's all or nothing, lovely. I've already explained that I don't share, and if you expect me to promise to not leave you behind, then that means I will always keep you close, even beyond the day you grow sick of me."

The native gazes at me with disbelief, his eyes then lowering to stare at my bare chest. Hesitantly, he raises a hand to place his palm over my long dead heart. "It would be good to not die alone," Squall states softly before renewing our eye contact.

I wince inwardly, thinking of Quistis and how it meant nothing that I was there with her when she died. "Don't say such things."

Gazing at me with those piercing eyes, the native says nothing more while pulling away his hand as if I had rejected his touch.

I quickly grab that hand and place it back onto my chest. "I'm tired of seeing people I care for die," I admit softly, for the first time out loud.

"That is your curse."

Of course the bastard would state it so simply, as if I didn't know already that immortality isn't the great benefit most humans would like to believe. But still, he is right. There's no use in crying over spilt blood. Releasing his hand, I tell the brunet, "Lie down and then I can help you sleep. You'll feel better afterwards and we won't have to postpone our trip another day."

Squall nods his understanding, but once sitting on the thin mattress, he looks up at me with a firm gaze. "You will rest as well."

I smile at his demanding way of showing his concern. "Yes, lovely. I will, but you first."

Accepting my answer, the brunet lies down on the bed and stretches out close to the wall, either purposefully or subconsciously leaving enough room for me to join him on the narrow mattress. Placing my hand at his cheek with my fingertips pressed gently at his temple, I speak silently to the man, coaxing him into sleep. Even now, he resists me, reluctant to close his eyes while staring up into my gaze, but he eventually surrenders with a soft sigh and slumps into sleep.

Carefully, I move my hand to the mattress to support me as I lean over the unconscious man. With no reason to hold back, I place my lips against Squall's, the limp response unsatisfying, but his unique taste is enough for now. Lifting up to stare down at the beauty, I'm surprised by a forgotten hunger of mine, the desire to have this man and feel mortal if only for that brief amazing moment. Pathetic how much sharper that hunger is felt compared to my cursed need for blood.

Placing my hand on warm skin, I trail my fingers down his side and along his thigh before I lean over to kiss the man's branded chest. "Welcome to my nightmare, my naive savage. May you escape it with a peaceful death."

{Continued}


	4. Chapter 4

[Squall]

I stare out at the ocean, still wordlessly impressed by the massive body of water which both my mother and Seifer had tried to describe to me in the past. To my shame and limited imagination, I assumed that the ocean would only be a far larger lake than I had yet to witness, but now seeing the horizon lined with nothing but water... it's intimidating and confusing. How can there be deserts when so much water exists in one place?

"... don't ..."

Moving my eyes from the never ceasing waves, I look down at the large man resting with his head on my lap. Worry makes me frown with uncertainty, this not being the first time I had to watch Seifer suffer from his dreams. With every day closer to the coast, his sleep has become increasingly restless to the point of him giving up on too much precious rest in exchange for peace of mind. Only once did I comment about the matter, but the blond said nothing in reply. He merely gazed at me with hard emerald eyes, and then sharply turned away with the obvious message that he didn't wish to discuss it.

But since that day weeks ago, Seifer hasn't taken a drop of blood from me. Instead, he taught me the best way to cut myself to lose blood without the aid of the vampire and without causing the problems of too much blood loss, possible infection, and lengthy healing periods. While I understand the need of those lessons, it hurts to watch my blood fall to the ground, untried and wasted. It's a childish reaction, but my thoughts are plagued by questions of why the vampire is denying himself my blood. I feel his hunger and I have seen the reddened areas of his skin now sensitive to sunlight. Why must he torture himself like this?

"Squall...?"

Pulling out from my thoughts, I focus my vision to gaze at the half-opened eyes of the vampire. I don't respond vocally, but place my hand on his neck, my touch apparently soothing to the sun-damaged skin.

Seifer sighs quietly as he closes his eyes once more. "I'm a fool."

"I know."

"And you aren't helping," he murmurs while shifting into a more comfortable position. He then moves a hand and begins to stroke the dark symbol on my ankle. "You have small feet."

I frown despite the pleasing touch, not seeing what his comment has to do with anything.

"Not tiny, but small. You know, in some Asian cultures, small feet were a sign of beauty, but mothers put their daughters through torture to keep their feet small into maturity. It didn’t matter that they could hardly walk, just that they had small feet. It's incredible what a person can name 'beautiful' and what another person will do to achieve that so-called beauty." Seifer gazes up at me with a lazy smile. "I want to take you to Asia someday. You'd like it."

"What is wrong with you? You do not sleep for days and drop to the ground. Now you speak of going to an imagined place?"

The blond chuckles. "You think Asia is a mythical realm? I'll have you know, little native, that I have visited that continent on many occasions."

Though surprised that Asia isn't a legendary empire, I scowl at the vampire for his obvious avoidance of the true topic at hand.

"No need to be offended. You can't help not knowing more about the world without seeing it with your own eyes."

Frustrated with the insufferable man, I shove him away as I stand up sharply, nearly losing my footing on the shifting sands. Seifer drops to the ground, huffing with irritation before he glances up at me with his entrancing eyes. Not wanting to let him get the upper hand with his powers, I turn my attention to the ocean and walk toward the cold waves of salt water. Uncaring of my pants, I step directly into the surf and shiver at the chilling touch of the ocean.

But before I can go too far, strong arms are abruptly tight around my chest as the larger man forces me to a stop.

“Are you angry with me?”

Though I refuse to answer, I relax into his hold while my eyes stay focused on the coming waves.

“Does it offend you that I think you have small feet?”

I growl at Seifer for playing obtuse with such a question, but I don’t attempt to escape the tightening enclosure of his arms, knowing well by now that I’m at the mercy of the vampire’s inhuman strength.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Seifer asks with sudden concern, his forehead then placed against the back of my neck. “You can’t be that angry with me already.”

But I am angry with him. He completely and irrevocably changed my life before I could consider the consequences of being bound to this confusing and dangerous man. He made me care enough about his wellbeing such that, for the first time in a long time, I have the desire to live if only to make certain that he doesn’t do something completely stupid. But worse, he changed me into something weak and needy, like a beaten dog who will do anything for scraps and a kind word from its master.

And yet, was I any better the way I was before? Before I cared about waking up to a new day? Before I understood the true meaning of heat and attraction, want and desire?

Seifer shifts behind me such that his lips caress the symbol at the side of my neck and a stray hand sneaks beneath my shirt to stroke bare skin. A soft sigh escapes me at the sensual touch, something that has been infrequent from the blond as of late.

My blood begins to burn as the vampire licks the dark symbol harder, prompting me to suggest, “If you are hungry--“

Before I finish the sentence, Seifer launches back from me, nearly shoving me into the shallow surf with his abruptness. I glare back coolly at the blond, but that sense of irritation fades when I look into his green eyes glowing with a feverish intensity. He quickly places a hand over his revealing eyes, but we both know that it is too late. He can no longer deny the fear he feels.

Calmly, I close the distance between us, and when Seifer doesn’t move, I place my hand at his wrist to carefully pull his hand away from his eyes. Childishly, he keeps his eyes averted, but when I place a hand at his cheek, he cautiously moves his gaze to view my face, as if uncertain I was truly before him. Focusing on my eyes, he smirks weakly and leans into my touch.

“I’m pathetic,” Seifer says in the same tone as when he first woke and declared himself a fool.

“What do you dream?” I ask, now certain that his sleep is bothering him more than he has let on.

“It’s none of your concern,” he states sharply, but as I stare at him firmly in demand of a better answer, he says weakly, “They are only dreams. Nothing to worry about.”

“Then why do you fear them?”

Seifer looks away from my gaze and stares at the ocean. “I’m not afraid of some overly imaginative dream.”

With a sigh, I remove my hand from his cheek and step back from the larger man, the loss of contact making him look at me once more. “I fear some dreams,” I say, strangely comfortable with making the admission of weakness to Seifer. “There were dreams about my mother, my father, and Rinoa… I hate them, but I understand the Spirits’ warnings.”

The vampire scoffs angrily. “My dreams have nothing to do with your spirits.”

I frown, somewhat insulted, but I won’t let him drive me away so easily. Instead I cross my arms and glare at the frustrating blond while I wait for an explanation as to why his dreams aren’t influenced by the Spirits.

Green eyes darken vaguely before Seifer turns and stares at the distant horizon. He remains silent for a time, during which I focus on his profile, momentarily entranced by the noble appearance of the typically crude man. His eyes slowly narrow as if seeing something to his dislike on the horizon, but I see nothing of interest with my human eyes. He then speaks, his words voiced with exhausted anger.

“My dreams are controlled by demons, sadistic demons who have nothing better to do with their immortal lives.”

“What demons?” I ask, uncertain if the man is being figurative with his words.

Seifer smirks and reveals a lengthy fang. “Do you really need to ask?”

When I don’t respond, the large man turns slowly to focus his strange eyes on me. He then steps close in front of me while raising a hand to gently encircle the side of my throat. His thumb strokes there softly, the cool touch making my body shiver with anticipation.

“You know the legends about my kind, and yet, have you once wondered why you haven’t become a vampire after the various times I’ve bitten you?”

I frown in thought, trying to remember the details of the stories my mother told me. “But I did not drink your blood.”

“A-ah, I forgot about that part of the myths. Well, it’s all bullshit anyway. It takes more than blood to create a monster like myself. Otherwise, all sorts of vampires would be running around and causing mayhem.”

Seifer doesn’t clarify beyond that as he apparently becomes lost in his thoughts, and while he has roused my curiosity, I don’t feel like the man is ready to speak about this subject just yet, and I’m not one to harass a person into speaking. Instead, with Seifer so close to me, I glance over the reddened areas of his skin, my concern for the man returning. He needs my blood, and though he seems determined to suffer, I’m tired of watching him waste away without reason.

“I hurt, Seifer.”

Green eyes refocus on me and his pale lips set into a concerned frown. “It seems a bit soon for that, but some bloodletting shouldn’t do you any harm.”

“No, I need you to do it.”

The vampire stiffens vaguely as his eyes take on a shielded look. “You did it just fine the past few times, lovely.”

Though I know he understands my true meaning, I decide to clarify by holding onto the hand still resting on my neck. Gazing defiantly into green eyes, I say, “Your hunger hurts me.”

He seems surprised by that, even though he was the one to tell me that I would be driven to appease his needs. “It… It truly hurts you?”

I nod, concluding that his carelessness toward his hunger must be the reason I have felt such aching pains in my chest. What else could it be?

Seifer stares at me while leaning forward as if ready to take what is his, but then he abruptly jerks back, hissing when I don’t release his hand and prevent him from moving further away. “I can’t do this, Squall. Not now.”

“Why?”

He looks away before speaking in a soft, desperate tone. “I’ll hurt you.”

“This hurts more than your bites.”

“So you believe,” Seifer argues. “But I could tear out your jugular with a single swift bite.”

“And I could stake you when you sleep.”

His head snaps in my direction, his eyes glowing with uncertainty.

“I could, but I do not want to,” I reassure him quietly. “Do you want to kill me?”

Slowly an arrogant smirk forms as his hand loosens at my throat. “No, I like you alive. But the demon in me has other ideas.”

“But do _you_ want to hurt me?"

The smirk softens while his eyes take on an odd look. "In some ways, yes. You can't imagine how badly I want to hurt you. But the demon... he wants differently. He wants you broken."

"The demon... he is real?"

The large vampire says nothing for a long time, but patience has always been a strength of mine. So we stand in the shallow surf, myself continuing to examine the blond man’s strong features and the inhuman glow to his eyes. It makes me believe in the ‘Fate’ my mother always went on about, the same ‘Fate’ which brought my parents together. How else could I have met such a man as this arrogant blond.

"It takes more than blood to make a monster,” Seifer says for a second time, apparently ready to continue what he had mentioned previously about the myths being wrong about his kind. “A long time ago, I was offered the powers of a demon, a chance of immortality along with inhuman abilities. Since the beginning, I’ve been a fool desperate for power, so it was no surprise that I didn't say 'no' or even question what I had to sacrifice in return. While we didn't have the same stories about vampires back then, I still knew that I was dealing with a devil and I didn't care one bit.

"It involved a complex ritual to change me. While I had been drained of blood like the stories describe, it was more to weaken my mental resistance than anything else. And so, with me chained and bound to a stone floor, a demon was summoned to inhabit my body." The vampire closed his eyes and sneered viciously. "I don't know how long the pain lasted, but I was very surprised to wake up alive and still a part of this world. And then I felt the hunger... My Mistress presented me with my first victim and I only hesitated long enough to figure out how I was supposed to satisfy my needs with the sobbing woman. Her blood was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted and I remember being disappointed when she died too quickly."

I smirk at the man's unending attempt to frighten me away with tales of his previous life. "Then the demon gives you life?"

Seifer scoffs. "Life... I wouldn't exactly call it that."

I shrug, not caring about his technicalities.

"He hates you," the vampire states with a smug tone. "He doesn't like how weak you make me."

"You make you weak."

Seifer frowns darkly before turning his back to me. "I'm not taking your blood, Squall. I'm sick of feeding the demon within me at another’s expense. And you, especially... The next time I place my mouth on your neck, I will surely kill you."

I stare at the man's tense pose, not understanding his hesitance in the least. "Why now?"

"Why now what?" he asks angrily.

"Why will the demon kill me now?"

The vampire straightens, but with his back turned, I can't guess his reaction to the question. When he offers no reply, I step carefully the man, the surf pulling at my feet with an interesting sensation, but I ignore it with a silent promise to explore it more at a later time. I don't stop my approach until I’m very close to the larger man, and I'm vaguely surprised at myself for wanting to be within inches of another person. Cautiously I place a hand at the middle of his broad back, earning a harsh shiver from the blond at my touch.

"Your dreams confuse you," I say softly, guessing that his disturbed sleep of the past several weeks must be the reason for his state of mind. "These demons you spoke of… they want you weak, and you let them make you weak."

"I don't let them do anything," Seifer states defensively.

"But you will 'let' the demon kill me?"

Faster than my eyes catch, the vampire turns around and grabs my hand in an awkward hold, making me hiss out in surprised pain. "Don't twist my words."

With a knowing smirk, I defiantly meet his glare. "My blood is for you and your strength. No one else’s."

His grip tightening around my wrist, Seifer stares at me with hard, examining eyes for a long moment. I almost forget to breathe as the intense gaze seemingly bores through my thoughts and searches my soul. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his lips twitch into slight smile before a breathy laugh leaves the large man. Smirking feebly, he raises my arm to press a soft kiss at the dark circle on my wrist.

"How could I forget that this body belongs to me," Seifer murmurs against my skin.

The effect of his touch on the symbol he placed on me is instantaneous as ecstasy rushes through my veins, but I ignore that overwhelming pleasure to stay focused on the vampire. My resistance, however, is tested when emerald eyes bright with relief and gratitude meets my gaze. How I hate this man for the way he can simply look at me without a spoken word and make me want to do anything for him.

"I nearly fell for it," Seifer says with subtle anger. "I was about to let that bitch convince me that I would hurt you, and she knows that I won't take another's blood once I've bonded with someone else."

"She?"

"My Mistress and eternal tormentor. She encourages the demon within me while adding her own special flavor of sadism."

"If you know this..."

"Then why do I let her get to me?" he supplies, finishing off my question for me. At my nod, Seifer sighs. "I don't know. I think I'm old and tired, or perhaps she has merely trained me to believe her lies. Either way, it's hard to ignore the visions she sends me."

Gazing at the immortal who suddenly appears defenseless and exposed, I move my hand in his hold to brush my fingers along the man's cheek. "Lies are lies. Your strength is the truth."

"It's not that simple, little native."

"It can be."

Seifer chuckles. "Youth - they believe in everything."

Before I can argue, the vampire caresses my wrist with his lips once more, this time adding the sharp graze of his unnatural teeth.

“You want me to sate my hunger,” Seifer says in a vaguely questioning tone.

Lost in heat, I manage only a noise of affirmation.

“A-ah, but we would have a little problem then – my hunger runs deeper than my need for blood.”

I stare at the smirking face, knowing full well what the man wants from me. From the beginning, he has hinted about other needs with both his words and touches. I suppose it could have been the only thing I truly feared about the vampire, that he would ask this of me. But while I first feared the act itself with this man, I don’t think that is true anymore. No, now I simply fear what else sex could lead to.

Bowing my head to hide my eyes with my lengthy bangs, I ask, “You will not leave me?”

Without warning, Seifer jerks on my arm and causes me to stumble forward and press against his larger body. His free hand goes behind my head and he persuades me to look up into his eyes glowing with an intense warmth which belies his cooler skin. "I already told you that you're trapped with me for the rest of your life. Why else would I taunt myself with your blood when I couldn't bring myself to taste you?"

I want to believe his words, but I won't surrender to such foolish hopes that someone I care about won't eventually desert me. But I also won't voice my thoughts to Seifer, too afraid that he'll prove me right someday. "Then do what you want."

The blond frowns vaguely at my indifferent response, but his eyes reflect the victory he feels at receiving my permission. "We should return to the inn. I doubt that you'll be able to walk after I have my way with you."

I shiver at his words, partly from anticipation, but I can't stop myself from feeling some fear as well.

Seifer leans down to speak softly in my ear. "I'm nothing like the others in your past. I won't take pleasure in your pain."

Though I suspect the vampire laced his words with his suggestive powers, I don't resist him and relax in his hold. I suppose I asked for this outcome by stubbornly refusing to escape this man whenever he gave me the chance, and since it's apparently my fault for encouraging him, I should accept my responsibility with a sense of honor. Pushing back from his chest, I look up into the entrancing gaze of the vampire and nod once in a sign of trust.

* * *

[Seifer]

Beautiful. That's the only description which comes close to the sight before me as I watch Squall methodically remove his clothing. The room is dimly lit with the single window covered by a thick blanket, but strips of bright light filter through as the blanket flutters from a cool breeze. That flickering light shines across deeply tanned skin which covers the lean muscle of the native, the lovely sight reminding me of sculptures created by master craftsmen. But adding to his unique beauty are white scars of varying depth which stand out on that skin, such imperfections rarely shown in works of art.

As Squall removes his pants, I watch the way his thick hair shifts with his graceful movements and shines with the occasion flash of light. I want to rake my fingers through that hair and brush the long strands away from his somber face, but I'd hate to move and break the brunet's intense concentration. More likely than not, Squall is remembering his past and is readying himself for pain. I won't bother correcting his views anymore, realizing that the man relies more on actions than words.

The native straightens, fully naked before me and his face set into an uncertain scowl. I smirk at his expression, and before he can speak a word, I drop into a slower time. I take my time with undressing, my eyes staying focused on the beauty in front of me. It's been a long time since I've wanted someone like this, desiring both the body and the person. The last one was a woman nearly two hundred years past, and I don't think I've ever had the same intense feelings for a man. Interesting how two people can meet and find something they didn't even know they had been searching for.

With soft steps, I stride up to the man seemingly frozen in time and move behind him to loosely wrap my arms around the lithe body. As I return to normal time, Squall inhales in surprise as his hand goes to the arm resting on his bare chest. I smirk at the furious scowl which forms, knowing full well of the man's hatred toward my ability to move without him seeing me.

"You are cold," he states harshly.

"Am I? Well then, you'll just have to rectify that for me."

His frown fading, Squall turns in my loose hold and stares up into my eyes. "Why me?"

"Never question Fate, little native. You won't get any answers in return."

While the stormy-eyed man seems to think through my reply, I take advantage of the distraction and bend down to claim his lips. Squall jerks at the move, but then relaxes once realizing my intention. Like times before, I have to spend some time coaxing the native with soft pressure and gentle bites before he gives me entrance into his mouth. His unique taste makes me groan quietly as I move my hand down his strong back and find one of the dark symbols located there. My massaging touch on the sensitive marking prompts the smaller man to arch forward and press his warmer body against mine in a very satisfying fashion.

Smirking into the kiss, I stroke my tongue hard against his, persuading Squall to enter into new realms. Though hesitant, the native finally decides to be adventurous and taste more of me. With little time to waste, he unsurprisingly tongues a lengthy fang, the curious touch making me moan at the sensation of want it causes. Squall breathes a laugh into the kiss and presses his body harder against mine. I try to pull back to make a comment, but the native doesn't release his hold on me. He instead rubs his tongue along my other fang, and then curls beneath the pointed tooth in a way that creates a deep cut on his tongue. The burst of blood makes me inhale sharply before I promptly begin to suck on the tongue leaking sweet nectar. But once I get control over my instincts, I realize what the man had done and I pull back sharply.

"Squall..."

Unbothered by my stunned glare, the native licks his lips, the move leaving a light coating of blood on soft flesh.

Vaguely amused by the most likely unintentional sultry look, I ask, "Doesn't that hurt?"

Squall cocks his head in a thoughtful manner. "No. Is that your fault?"

"Perhaps," I say, knowing that my bites shouldn't hurt him anymore, but I've never had a partner purposefully cut themselves on my fangs.

The native then frowns with disgust. "The blood tastes bad."

"I might be able to help there," I murmur before licking the smear of blood from his lips.

Rejoined in a deep kiss, I carefully lead Squall back toward the bed, my attention split between needing to suck his tongue dry and wanting my dick deep within this unpredictable beauty. Somewhat reluctantly I stroke the cut with my tongue in a sealing manner and pull away from our kiss before helping the smaller man to the mattress. While that wary gleam is still present in his stormy blues, Squall smoothly stretches out along the length of the bed and gazes at me with a silent invitation.

Unable to hide my lustful smirk, I straddle over the native and promptly get to work with tasting his sun-loved skin. Squall shifts his head to give me the best access to his neck, but I don't take the offering as he wants me to. Instead, I tease the dark symbol on his skin by grazing my teeth over the sensitive marking, eventually drawing an almost unheard whimper from the brunet. Wanting to create more noises from the stoic man, I travel lower along his toned body with my mouth, purposefully pausing at the tender points I had long ago discovered with my exploring hands.

In short time, Squall tries to squirm away from me, his breaths ragged and his resolve to remain silent weakened. I chuckle softly at the man's vague attempt to escape from the pleasure I'm forcing upon him. It has always been that way, the native obviously appreciating my various touches, but he fears them as well, and so he fights the overwhelming desire as long as he can, and when that fails, he tries to run away from those sensations. Respecting his fears, I've allowed him his escape in the past, but not today. Today I will show him that there is nothing to fear.

As my hands rest firmly at his hips, I place gentle kisses and licks along his hardening arousal, the move not entirely welcomed by Squall, but he soon relaxes once realizing I have only soft caresses in mind. Smiling at earning more of his trust, I continue lower to nibble along his inner thigh, the move drawing a strong gasp from the brunet as his leg jerks away. With a scolding hum, I grab onto his thigh and lift it into a more comfortable position for my purposes. I lick and suck on the warm skin, causing it to redden with increased blood.

"S, Seifer..."

Not ceasing my attack on the leg, I shift my eyes to the half-lidded gaze of the native. I smirk broadly at his flushed appearance, and after showing him my fangs, I bite into the willing flesh to claim what is mine. Thick blood heated with life flows into my mouth, the bite causing Squall to groan wantonly and drop back onto the pillow with his eyes tightly shut.

Once certain the man was in no pain, I close my eyes to savor the taste of the native, but fallen into darkness, I'm assaulted by the mocking laughter of the demon within me. Words of weakness and hatred echo in my mind, making my stomach curl with nausea and distaste toward the sweet blood of the brunet. I pull back sharply from the deep bite, forgetting to seal the wound with my abrupt retreat. Unable to think straight, I stare entranced as streams of vibrant red flow along brown flesh and slip underneath the thigh such that I can feel the heated liquid on my supporting hand. Before I have the chance to drop the leg in disgust, I'm startled by the touch of warmth at my bare shoulder. Turning my head, I stare directly into the warm gaze of the native, and as if he were the one with immortal powers, I feel trapped by his pale blue eyes, unable to move away as I want to.

His fingers stroking along the back of my neck, Squall says softly, "Your skin is healing fast, but you need more blood."

I sneer in the attempt to hide a shameful wince. "It's never enough. No matter how much I take, the demon within me will never be sated, and he'll always laugh at me for given into his desires."

Squall frowns in thought, and then speaks slowly as he does whenever uncertain about getting across the right meaning in English. "The demon gives you life and makes you strong, not because he wants that. So he is your slave, under your power. But slaves need to be fed or they die. Why is it bad to feed him?"

I stare at the brunet for a stunned moment before I laugh. "You think he's my slave? A demon of the underworld?"

"Then, he... freely gives you his power?"

The simple question makes me stare at the native, my thoughts running wild at the suggestion I had never really considered. With our joining centuries ago, the demon's power became mine as well, something I doubt any dark creature would give up willingly. But in my youth, the demon didn't seem to mind as he had greatly enjoyed the way I used his powers to torture and destroy the humans who were pathetically weaker than I. However, since those dark years, I have become more of a hermit than anything else, unwilling to harm others for the mere sake of causing pain. Despite his fury about my change of heart, the demon had been unable to change me, and only my Mistress has been able to lend him more power to taunt me, to weaken me... But even so, he has yet to fulfill his venomous promises to kill Squall, not gaining enough control over my body to even bruise the trusting native. There has only been mind games, nothing more, and I'm enough of a fool to believe his baseless threats.

Smirking at the weakness of my mind, I return to the bloodied thigh of the brunet and gently clean the warm flesh while also closing the bite mark I had created. As I feel the rage of the demon within me and realize the powerless situation of the enslaved creature, I laugh softly and move forward to force Squall onto his back. Sparing a moment to stare down into his intelligent gaze, I lower my body to cover his smaller form. After licking his neck in a bare warning, I sink my fangs into the familiar location and once again lose myself in drinking the essence of the native and his freely given strength.

Some time passes as I greedily satisfy my hunger, only the touch of the native waking me from my preoccupied state. In a cautious move, his arm wraps over my back and slides upward so that his hand grasps onto my shoulder. Using me as support, Squall lifts himself to press his body against mine, purposefully rubbing his erection against my thigh. Nearly laughing at the needy touch and his subsequent groan of bliss, I quickly close the puncture wounds on his neck and remove the arm from my back so that I can move onto my knees.

"Did you want something, lovely?"

Refusing to meet my gaze, Squall glares intently at the wall in an attempt to hide his embarrassed blush.

"Well, I know what I want." I reach down to retrieve a vial from beneath the bed, and then show the container of expensive oil to the native. "I should warn you that even with lubrication, this could hurt."

A shadow of a smile forms before stormy eyes shift in my direction. "I know."

Receiving the only type of permission Squall will offer me, I carefully position the man so that I have easy access to prepare him. He immediately tenses with the first touch of my fingers against his anus, but I didn't expect anything less. Placing my free hand around his waist, I lightly caress one of the symbols branded onto his lower back, the effect instantaneous as Squall arches with pleasure and relaxes enough to give my oiled fingers free reign to enter deeper into heat. Once recognizing the diversion for what it is, the native glares at me half-heartedly, but then inhales in surprise when I stroke just the right spot deep within him.

"Didn't expect anything pleasurable involved with this?"

After a couple deep breaths, Squall focuses a tired glare at me. "You do not need to be nice. This is for your hunger."

"But perhaps my hunger is best satisfied when I'm pleasuring my lover as well as myself."

Eyes dark with desire widen in disbelief. "Lover...?"

"Well, in another few moments... yes," I state in a low purring tone.

As I remove my fingers, Squall shivers and promptly looks to the safety of the wall while ignoring my undoubtedly lustful expression. Not wishing to prolong the native's discomfort, I place a large dose of the scented oil onto my erection and shift into a better position while placing a smooth leg over my shoulder. Nuzzling the flesh bruised from my earlier bite, I attract the curious gaze of the native. After an apologetic kiss to his thigh, I shift to nudge my arousal at his opening, and with a hand firm at his hip, I push forward into amazing heat. My breath stolen from me, I quickly realize that it's been too long since I've done this for a reason beyond the simple desire for sex and satisfaction, so long that it's simple torture to force myself to pause and allow Squall the moment to adjust to my invasion.

"Seifer..."

The sighed out call of my name makes me look up and gaze directly into a flushed, but determined expression. Apparently out of words, the native grabs onto the sheets beneath us and pulls on them to help drive himself further along my length. Hissing at the sharp move, I can't control my body as I finish the thrusting motion to completely encase myself into the lithe body. Squall echoes my inhaled breath and shifts in a way that proves his discomfort, but he doesn't retreat from me. Instead, he treats me with the sight of a pleasure-drowsy gaze and his lips parted in an inviting manner.

Though I imagine this will leave me open for future taunts about my old age, I decide that I need to end this quickly before I completely lose my control and injure the trusting human beneath me. With measured strokes, I thrust into the inviting body, never taking my eyes away from his stormy gaze. Finding no pain but little pleasure in his expression, I find release harder than I imagined, but with both of my hands occupied, there is little I can do to rectify the situation.

"Use your hand, lovely."

Squall stares at me with simple horror at the breathy suggestion, but he then relaxes as much as possible for the serious man. His gaze sharply leaves mine, but I notice how one of his hands releases its deadly hold on the sheets. My thrusts become more sporadic as I watch the play of uncertainty, embarrassment and fear beneath me. Carefully, as if stalking skittish prey, his hand moves to his toned stomach and slips across smooth skin. With my eyes locked onto the wandering hand, I adjust my rhythm such that with the first hesitant touch of his fingertips on his erection, I thrust sharply and deeply into the lithe body. A yelp-like noise escapes Squall as he jerks his hand away, the unexpected reaction making me laugh despite my better sense. Icy eyes glare at me for finding humor in his humiliation, but I find that I can't stop myself. The best I can do is press my mouth against his thigh and try to contain my laughter.

Gradually, his irritated expression fades into something more thoughtful, and then Squall shifts his body to remind me about our joined situation. "Do not stop," he commands hoarsely as he tentatively places his hand back onto his stomach, but no further.

Proud of his never-ending ability to surprise me, I follow his order and continue with harder strokes than before. Squall groans and closes his eyes at the assault, but my fear of harming him is removed when he arches his body and meets my thrusts with his own movements. The limit finally arrives for me when the native overcomes his anxiety and fingers his thickened erection. It's too much to witness his timid attempt of masturbation, especially after his previous endeavor, and my body reacts almost immediately as I manage a final thrust into encasing heat.

It's a slow recovery from the greatly needed release, and once opening my eyes, I stare down into an oddly curious gaze. "Wh... what's wrong?"

Squall blinks at my breathy question, frowns softly, and then looks away with a thoughtful expression.

Too satisfied to take any offense at the man's silent ways, I carefully and somewhat reluctantly remove myself from the tight warmth. Crawling forward to rest at his side, I press my face against his neck and lazily taste the heated skin slick with sweat. The arm I unintentionally trapped beneath me curls up as Squall rakes his slim fingers through my hair in a most pleasing manner. Wanting to express my appreciation, I move my hand to his leaking hardness and promptly fist the vulnerable organ. Squall attempts to argue and avoid the intimate contact, but I don't give him that option. With my hand moving in fast, hard strokes and my teeth grazing the sensitive seal on his chest, I soon have the willful man moaning in that odd language of his. Somewhere in the mix, my name is spoken repeatedly in a harsh scolding fashion, but the native doesn't struggle against the release I want to grant him. Instead, he succumbs to it beautifully with a quiet cry as his hips jerk up high and his hand clutches hard onto my defenseless hair.

Enjoying the dazed look of the native, I lift my hand to my lips and thoroughly clean the salty fluid from my fingers. Squall stares at the action with a gleam of revulsion in the drowsy gaze, but when I simply smirk at his distaste and continue to savor his essence, his pale lips twitch into a bare smile before quickly flattening into a serious line.

"You did not have to do that."

"Perhaps, but did you mind my touch?" I ask innocently while removing any remaining residue from my hand onto the bed sheets.

"... No."

"Then what's the problem?"

Squall sighs in frustration, but he proves his exhaustion by not continuing the argument.

Chuckling to myself, I sit up fully and bend down to treat myself to a soft kiss against defenseless lips. Too tired to fight, the native opens up to my explorations and softly joins in with the gentle tongue play. Pulling away with a kiss to the corner of pale lips, I gaze down into hazy gray eyes and favor him with a small smile before I move to the edge of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Squall asks sharply, immediately alert with my apparent departure.

"I'm just leaving for a short time. I need to locate my Mistress before nightfall."

"But..." Cutting his complaint short, the brunet glances away from my eyes and mutters something in his native tongue.

It's a simple matter to guess the reason why I've upset the man, but I don't attempt to vocally appease his worries. Instead, I stand up from the bed and walk to the dresser where my holster currently rests. Removing a knife from its bindings, I pull the plainly decorated blade from its sheath to examine the metal dark gray with age. Though it takes a moment to convince myself that this is a good idea, I return to the bedside and hold the hilt of the knife out to the native.

"Keep this for me." When Squall doesn't move except to direct a confused glare at the weapon, I explain, "I won't face my Mistress without it, so you'll be certain to see me before I do anything stupid."

The native frowns without taking the blade, obviously trying to determine whether or not he can trust my word.

"It was my father's knife in the long past," I add in a hushed voice, surprised by the amount of emotion that man can still draw from me.

Stormy eyes widen vaguely before Squall reaches out for the hilt with an almost reverent touch. He quietly examines the blade like I had only moments previously, except he also lightly fingers the edge of the knife, trailing the small runes which I had etched into the aged metal decades past.

"I'll try to be back before sunset," I assure the silent man while giving him the sheath to the knife. "You should sleep until I return. I didn't take too much blood, so an afternoon of rest should help you to replenish your strength."

Nodding as he sheaths the blade, Squall says, "Do not be long."

"As you command, my Indian prince."

He frowns at the title, and then huffs in annoyance as he lies down with his back to me. "If you want to leave, then leave."

Thinking that I'd be mad to actually _want_ to leave this beauty, I collect my clothing from the floor and dress with slow reluctance. It shouldn't be a difficult matter to locate my Mistress, Adel never one to favor the shadows, but to find the bitch means that I'll have to finally face her, that I'll have to be strong against my 'mother'. Glancing back at the silent figure on the bed, I wonder at his somber strength, it being something that Squall didn't gain through demons or darker means. How I wish I knew him when I was younger, that he could have given me the strength to resist the toxic lies of the vampire mistress. But back then, I probably would have rejected him and refused his aid while in constant denial about my weakness. Why did I have to be such a worthless prick?

Somehow managing to dress myself while lost in thought, I slip the holster around my waist, the missing weight of the knife easily felt after decades of carrying the important blade. I allow myself a final glance back at the resting man, and with a whispered call for him to sleep well, I leave in search of my eternal tormentor and dark mother, promising to myself and the ghosts of my past that, one way or another, everything ends tonight.

* * *

[Squall]

Groaning into wakefulness, I glare at the thick blanket which had gotten caught onto the windowsill and allowed irritating red light into the small room. For a long, bleary-eyed moment, I debate my options of either hiding under the covers or possibly throwing something at the evil window. But eventually it registers to my fuzzy mind that the light of the setting sun means that Seifer should return at any moment. And here I am, naked in our bed. That can't lead to anything good.

Reluctantly and with expected soreness, I move to stand up from bed, but the touch of warm metal against my skin makes me pause. Picking up the knife, I stare down at the weapon that I had accidentally fallen asleep with. There is a strange aura to the simple piece of metal, its touch reminding me of the treasured ritual items belonging to my tribe. Despite being in the possession of a vampire, it doesn't have a dark energy, but something more... cleansing to its feel. But more importantly, given its power and its obvious meaning to the blond, I can't figure out what I did to deserve his trust to this extent. It's almost too much, and yet...

Clutching the knife close to my chest, I stand up from the bed with the intent to clean and dress before Seifer can return, but my attention is caught by motion from the corner of my eye. I stare at the long mirror next to the bed, and then dare to approach the reflective surface. Glancing over my body, I find nothing remarkable about the thin frame lacking defined muscles and the dry skin marred with shameful scars. It's a normal male body with all of its human weaknesses and awkwardness. In his old age, Seifer must be blind to find anything praiseworthy about this mortal form.

With a drifting hand, I take a silent count of the numerous bite marks remaining from the morning's events, there being only two spots of dark bruising from deeper bites. Caressing a few tender areas, I'm surprised by the lack of revulsion I feel toward such marking as compared to times before. ... No, if I wanted to be truthful with myself, I can't say that I'm surprised. With the first touch of his naked body against mine, I knew that sex with Seifer would be unlike anything I had experienced before. I was afraid to believe it, but I knew I wouldn't regret giving into the needs and desires of the vampire. I knew I was safe.

Refocusing on the mirror, I examine the intricate symbol burned onto my chest and finger the edge of the outer ring. Seifer called it the 'seal of life', but quickly warned me that I wasn't cursed with an immortal existence. It saved me from the brink of death and currently makes me harder to kill, but nothing more. The other symbols on my body are more for the vampire's needs, to keep my blood flowing strong and my body sensitive to his touch. Thankfully Seifer neglected the symbols on my forehead which would have made me more susceptible to his manipulations, but I know that he finds enjoyment in my resistance and my subsequent surrenders. I can't imagine him wanting it another way.

My eyes snap up to the reflection of my face, the smile which had been there promptly disappearing at my surprise. How long have I been able to smile like that again?

But before I have the chance to contemplate that thought, the mirror wavers oddly as I stare at it. Dark shadows seep in from the edges of the frame, the image within the mirror slowly taking form of a tall woman. While unable to look away from the disturbing use of magic, I step back from the mirror, moving as far as my stunned state allows me. Abruptly, the image comes into focus with a crimson-haired woman dressed in a horrid purple outfit staring at me with dark amusement. The moment her eyes of red and black meet my gaze, my body becomes heavy and cold as I can no longer back away.

"My, this is an unexpected sight," the woman states smugly as her unnatural eyes glance over my naked form. Shame and disgust burn through me at her examination, but my body refuses to move even to cover myself. "At least my son still has good taste in his playmates. If only he had the better sense to avoid his attachments to such pets."

As she speaks, I stare at her pointed teeth, slightly yellowed with age and neglect. With her features and her phrasing of 'son', I can only imagine that this is the 'Mistress' Seifer referred to earlier today. Coming to that conclusion concerning the woman's identity, I feel an odd sense of calm returning to me.

"Now, tell me where Seifer is hiding?"

Clutching onto the knife still in my hold, I fight the urge to tell her everything I know about the man's whereabouts. Her power is different compared to Seifer's more subtle use of manipulation, but despite its strength, it takes less effort to resist the direct command.

The crimson-haired woman smirks coolly. "Come now, human, I know that he is near. He would never leave that trinket of his behind."

"... ..."

"Very well, hold you tongue. I heard rumors that someone of his description was in town, and I was curious if my long lost son was going to pay me a visit, but no matter." In a graceful move, she lifts a pale hand and motions me forward with curl of her lengthy finger. "Come closer, pet."

Again I fight her command, but I still walk forward with halting steps, hoping that she won't notice her lack of control over me. Her red eyes brighten at my approach, the hungry gaze making my skin crawl with disgust. I stop mere inches from the mirror, the closer examination of the vampire making me wonder how Seifer could even consider to trust this demon in human guise.

"I wanted to speak to that troublesome child, but you will leave my message for me." Shadows flicker in the blood-red eyes before she speaks in a low, seductive tone. "The moment my son returns, you will bury that knife deep into his chest and feast on the blood he stole from you."

Horror overwhelms me at the thought of attacking Seifer, but unlike her previous commands, this one slips right pass all of my mental shields and settles in my mind, echoing with an intensity I can't ignore. The weight in my hand becomes more noticeable and my mouth waters at the idea of tasting Seifer for a change, but I know these aren't my desires. I try to empty my mind of the sickening images the woman has forced upon me, my attempt of resistance causing needle-like pains in my skull.

"Do not worry, pet. He won't die from something so simple, and there is a fairly good chance that he'll forgive you later."

I growl at her mocking tone, the ache of my head angering me further.

"You can't fight my power, mortal. Do my bidding and give my lost child something to remember that I'm the one who controls his life."

Before I consider my actions, there is the abrupt sound of shattering glass as I smash the hilt of the knife against the mirror. It's hard to tell, but the broken image of the vampire appears startled by my success at breaking the bonds of her power. Not giving her a second chance to speak, I bring knife down on the mirror once again, repeatedly hammering the mirror until all that is left is the battered wooden frame and the shards of glass on the floor. Exhausted and hurting deep within my soul, I drop to my knees, uncaring of the pieces of mirror cutting into my skin.

Mere moments later, the door to the room slams open despite its previously locked state. "Squall! Fuck, what in God's name happened here?"

My eyes widen at the familiar voice, and my hands automatically unsheathe the knife as the red-eyed woman's command echoes to my hearing with a frightening pitch. I don't want to attack Seifer and I certainly don't need his blood, but my resistance has been seriously weakened by my previous rebellion to destroy the mirror.

"Squall?"

A quiet whine passes through my lips as I fight the losing battle against the suggestion implanted into my mind. I refuse remove my eyes from the blade in my shaking hand, terrified that looking directly at Seifer will be my downfall. The sound of a closed door makes me jump, and I then tense further as the large man steps unthreateningly in my direction. He squats in front of me, but thankfully doesn't touch me as I shrink back from his presence.

"Squall, I want you to look at me."

I shake my head, the movement making me wince in pain.

"It's alright. I won't let you hurt me."

The soothing voice layered with subtle manipulation calms the quakes from my body. Feeling stronger despite the continued screaming in my ears, I hesitantly raise my head and meet the vibrant green gaze of the vampire. The smug smile on his face makes me frown with a new desire to stab the man with his own knife.

"You are incredible," Seifer whispers before placing his hand at the back of my neck, and then surprisingly caressing his lips against mine in a tender kiss. Pulling back a short distance, he stares directly into my eyes. "What message did my Mistress leave for me?"

"I... I have to stab you... and take your blood," I respond with some surprise that he could guess the source of my dilemma.

"O-oh? Well, I'm glad that you have an unnatural ability to be stubborn. That blade would have easily killed me with a well placed strike."

I stare at the vampire with confusion and dread. "How...?"

Seifer smirks before lifting his hand to his mouth and biting a lengthy fang into his thumb to start a dark flow of blood. Seemingly unworried by my tenuous control, he places the thumb on my forehead and streaks warmth across my skin. Almost immediately the invading voice disappears from my mind, the sudden freedom from the woman's suggestive power making me drop the knife and slump forward against the solid form of the blond.

"You shouldn't stay here, lovely. There is glass everywhere."

I ignore him, wanting my previous question answered. "Why can this knife kill you?"

"I will explain while I'm cleaning your cuts," Seifer states while standing, unfortunately pulling me up with him. Once I'm seated on the bed and he has retrieved some bandages and ointment from my saddlebag, the vampire begins to carefully pick glass from my knees. "Have I mentioned how much I despise my Mistress?"

I don't respond to the question, recognizing its rhetorical nature.

"This isn't the first time she has commanded someone I trust to betray me. Some have deserted me, others have attacked me... She is very good at guessing what sort of betrayal would hurt me the most. You using that knife against me when I have rarely let others even hold it..." He smiles with a quiet chuckle. "It's ironic that the one time her scheming could have killed me was when she was dealing with someone who can resist the power of demons."

Numbly, I listen to his deep voice and watch the methodic way he removes glass from my skin with an overly tender touch. Though he is a man possessed by one demon and tormented by other underworld creatures, I find that it's becoming increasingly difficult to see Seifer as anything other than a man with a tired and damaged soul.

"It was after I was forced to kill an important lover of mine due to that woman's meddling when I decided to take my revenge on my Mistress. Using my father's knife, I placed ancient runes on the blade, making it into a weapon which kills more than the body, but also the demons within."

I look up sharply at the words, just now realizing the seriousness of the situation. Using his knife, I could have killed the demon within Seifer and destroyed his source of life, taking him away from me forever. I could have killed the man who called me his 'lover'.

Seifer glances up into my startled gaze and smiles softly at my understanding before returning to my minor injuries. "It's been well over a century since I modified the knife, but after I had tested the blade against vampires of various ages and backgrounds, I lost my heated anger against Adel. And without that passionate anger, I drown in the uncertainties which make me weak against her manipulations. But since Quistis' death, I've had new motivation to hunt down my Mistress and finish what I should have done long ago. It's too late to mean anything, but I need some kind of conclusion before I go completely insane."

There is silence for a time as I absorb his words and attempt to understand his deeper meanings. "Will you leave me?"

"Actually, that is something we need to talk about," Seifer states while wrapping a clean cloth around my knee. "I know where she is and I'm going to confront her tonight. Frankly, no matter what I could plan, Adel will use you against me, so I'd rather avoid any surprises and have you in my sight from the beginning."

"Then I go."

Not looking up, the vampire warns, "Whether you come with me or not, I can't promise that I'll protect you from her. I need to kill her before she destroys what is left of my soul, and if that means sacrificing you, then I will leave you to her whims without a second thought."

I place a hand under his chin, directing his emerald gaze to look at my face. "You saved my life once and you gave me life another time. My life is not mine - I live for you, and I will die for you."

"Foolish youth," Seifer mutters before knocking away my touch and bending forward to rest his head on my lap. After a time of silence, he asks softly, "Was it so wrong to wish to be strong?"

"You are strong."

"Maybe now, but if so, it's not for the reasons you think."

I frown vaguely, not knowing what he could be implying beyond the powers of the demon fed with my blood or the motivating passion of losing his 'daughter'. But before I can think about his words, I'm startled as the vampire nudges between my legs and steals a lick of my groin. Grabbing his short hair, I pull his head back, unable to do more in my embarrassed state.

Seifer grins up at me. "You smell of sex and blood. It's intoxicating."

Scowling at his lustful gaze, I state, "Now is not the time."

"I know," he admits dejectedly while standing, "but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy a bath together."

"... ..."

"Trust me, lovely. Considering where we are going, you'll want to get that smell washed off."

"Why? Where is your 'Mistress'?"

Seifer smirks, his eyes flaring with a protective gleam. "You'll see soon enough."

{Continued}


	5. Chapter 5

[Squall]

Slowing to a stop on the boarded sidewalk, I stare at the three-story building waiting across the hardened street. Within the darkness of early evening, soft light filters out from the sheer curtains of numerous windows, and on occasion, there are the shadows of people moving within those rooms. Uncertain about the purpose of this place, I watch the play of shadows and try to discern what the people are doing within the tall building.

A soft chuckle sounds before a hand rests on my waist and a warm body presses up against my back. "Have you figured out what type of place this is yet?"

I frown, not appreciating the humored tone of the blond.

Seifer leans in closer with his breath caressing the back of my ear. "It's a whore house."

"And what is that?"

"It's a place where men go to lose their souls," the vampire states with a gentle clap to my back. "Let's go, little native. There's no need to prolong the inevitable."

As Seifer steps into the street, I glance over the large framed body that is straight with purpose, and yet relaxed in readiness. It reminds me of the single night he spent with my tribe and the moment he commanded Nida and his friends to release their hold on me. Then and now, there is a confident aura to the vampire as if he could do no wrong, but I know the weaknesses of the large blond. And for some reason, it is his strength despite his flaws which makes me respect him the most.

Following steps behind Seifer, I keep my eyes trained on the entrance of the large building, still uncertain about the situation I'm walking into. It makes me anxious, and yet, I can't feel completely afraid with the vampire striding in front of me. Despite his previous words, I feel confident that he will protect me from his 'Mistress', or at the least, he will make my death a swift one. Either outcome wouldn't be so terrible.

With the opening of the front door, I'm immediately repulsed by the overwhelming scent of burnt flowers and heavy perfume. But that irritation is promptly ignored when I take in the view of numerous women present in the wide room, all of them wearing bright dresses and some kind of paint on their faces. With our entrance and the subsequent closing of the front door, many of the women glance in our direction and smile widely with soft giggles.

With a smug smirk at the women, Seifer asks, "Which one of you lovelies would like to lead me to Adel?"

The twittering of giggles increases as several of the colorfully dressed women approach the large man and, unbelievingly, begin to touch him. Fine fingers with long, painted nails stroke against golden skin, and my eyes widen in disbelief as the graceful hands slip beneath the vampire's clothing. My attention diverted, I'm startled when a cold hand brushes against my own neck, the intimate caress making me jerk to the side to avoid anymore of the female's touch.

As I glare at her audacity, the woman of heavy black eyelashes and bright red lips laughs at my reaction. "You're a skittish one, aren't you?"

Before I have the chance to reply, another woman is at my back with her long fingernails raking up into my hair. "What handsome boys. It's a nice change from the usual sort we get around these parts."

I move away more slowly this time, not wanting to appear overly weak to the vampire before me, but I can't help stepping closer to him in a hopeless attempt to escape the shameless women.

Seifer chuckles, obviously unbothered by the women draped all over his body. "We're not here for play, ladies. I have a meeting with your mistress."

The obnoxious laughter sounds again as the scented women don't reply and instead continue their explorations and high-pitched cooing. Then, abruptly, there is wetness along my neck, the moist touch making me react before thought. A loud cry sounds, instantly silencing the rest of the women as the one who had placed her lips on me stumbles backward with a bloodied and perhaps broken nose. I slowly lower my elbow and glare at the offensive female, feeling only a hint of shame for injuring a weaker woman.

"How... How _dare_ you!" the woman hisses, her furious sneer revealing unnoticed fangs.

Shocked by the features of the vampire, I simply stare as she launches forward with incredible speed. Thankfully, the need to react isn't necessary as her progress is efficiently halted by a strong hand encircling the woman's long throat. Seifer then jerks the vampire close, his emerald eyes flashing with intense heat.

"No one tastes this man except me. Is that understood, whore?"

The woman manages a strangled squeak before she is thrown across the room, her body slamming hard against a far wall. The resulting crash causes a stand of lit candles to fall on the unconscious woman, her smoldering dress unfortunately extinguished by her squealing companions before the material could catch on fire.

"You were never one for subtly."

The musical voice makes me turn to glance up the stairway where a lovely woman stands at the second level. Dressed in a simple gown of light blue and a white shawl, the brunette appears the most appealing of the women I've seen thus far. But with her dark hair tied back in a loose bun and her deep brown eyes gazing down at us with a type of fondness, I quickly realize that I'm relating this stranger to Rinoa, the only person who has held some kind of love for this unwanted soul. But then a heavy arm rests around my shoulders, reminding me that Rinoa is no longer the only one who cares about my life and death.

"Ellone," Seifer addresses the newcomer with disgust. "I didn't realize that you were still traveling with Adel."

The dark-haired woman smiles, skillfully hiding any of her true feelings behind the warm mask. "Now, Seifer, you know that calling Mother by her given name wounds her heart. Isn't it time for you to place your childish rebellions aside?"

"You don't have the right to call me a child, Elle, and you aren't the one I'm here to see. So how about announcing me to the old whore before I go up there myself."

The brunet frowns at the vampire's choice in words, but nods her acceptance. "Your companion can stay here and be entertained in your absence."

"Sorry, but my donor comes with me."

Instantly I feel the pressure of numerous eyes upon me, those of the brunette named 'Ellone' being felt the strongest. Though uncomfortable with such attention, I'm easily calmed as Seifer brushes his fingers along one of the dark circles viewable on my neck.

"Who do I need to remind that this man is _mine_?" the blond vampire asks while shifting his poisonous eyes to one of the women who had licked her overly red lips at the announcement of my donor status.

"No one, dear brother," the dark-eyed brunette states coolly, though her gaze remains on me. "We all know the meaning behind those black seals and what the magic has done to his blood. If someone does not, with her first taste, she will realize that the human has been spoiled for the rest of us."

"Fucking children," Seifer huffs before leading me in the direction of the stairway. "They don't know a damn thing about our rules anymore."

Ellone smiles at the muttered complaint. "As if you ever respected those rules."

The large man chooses not to respond, but his hand on my neck tightens before he releases his hold. Seifer remains close behind me as I go upstairs and follow the female vampire's lead while she steps gracefully to the other set of stairs which continue to the third floor. From both of the higher levels, soft groans and the occasional muffled cry reach my ears, making me further confused about the purpose of this place. That is, until I hear one particular deep moan which immediately reminds me of Seifer and his pleasure induced noises from this morning. While still uncertain about the details, the knowledge that this building is used for sex makes me look up at the blond. Sensing my gaze, Seifer glances at me and smiles softly before returning a serious glare in the direction of upstairs. Not wanting to break his concentration and knowing that my curiosity is trivial compared to his problems, I decide to hold my questions for another time.

Without further distractions, we reach the third floor which displays obnoxious red carpet and odd furniture decorated with creatures I can't identify. But more importantly, a set of double doors is revealed with the pull of a rope which draws back heavy blood-red curtains. The female vampire knocks lightly at the door, and after apparently hearing something I couldn't, she opens both doors to allow us entrance, but chooses not to step inside herself. Seifer strides pass the brunette, forcing me to keep pace before the set of doors slam shut behind us. The resulting swirl of smoky air thick with perfume finally pushes my limits and a forceful sneeze escapes me, then followed by an even stronger sneeze. Seifer glances back with an amused smirk, but his humor doesn't last long.

"My lost son, I was not expecting your visit so soon. Forgive me for being unprepared."

We both turn at the sultry voice, my eyes widening at the physical form of the vampire's tormentor and false mother. Though I had seen her in the mirror only a short time ago, I wasn't prepared for the sight of this tall and intimidating woman before me. Almost Seifer's height, the female vampire is not simply pale, but white-skinned, especially compared to her dark purple dress and her thick crimson hair pulled back into a loose braid. But her unnatural features aside, the woman has a sickening aura about her, a powerful, but nauseating aura. Again I have wonder what attracted Seifer to this demon in human skin, but judging by the others downstairs, he hasn't been the only one to be seduced by the aged vampire.

Paying no attention to me, Adel's strange blood-red eyes focus on Seifer and she smiles at her protégé, the attempt appearing more of a vicious sneer than anything close to 'motherly'. "Shall I assume you never received my message?"

"Either way, it doesn't matter. I had already planned to stop by tonight."

She hums with interest, her unnatural eyes glancing over the man in search of injuries. "While I smell blood, it's not your own."

Seifer smirks broadly to reveal a pointed fang. "You haven't smelled my blood in a long time, woman. You could be mistaken."

"I'm not," the female demon states icily. "But it won't hurt me to make certain."

The sudden vanishing of the two vampires makes me retreat a step, their supernatural speed quickly reminding me that I'm a pathetic human mixed-up in the affairs of immortal beings. The disgusting women downstairs can hardly compare to these aged vampires, their blurred forms occasionally appearing within the large room as they meet to fight with weapons retrieved from who knows where. Gunshots sound at random, echoing in the wide room and making my ears ache, but the rushed battle doesn't pause in the least to ease my worry about the potential of Seifer being harmed thus far.

So entranced by the fight between vampires, I jump when an even louder crash of gunfire sounds from behind me. Staring at the closed doors, I watch the dark wood in anticipation of something, anything from splintered wood to someone entering through the doorway. But during that moment of distraction, a vague breeze brushes against my arm and a familiar low groan sounds to my distress. Turning, I stare at the image of the broad back strong before me, Seifer's coat removed at some point and his white shirt torn in all places. From outstretched arms, strange silver points have pierced through his flesh and dark blood has already soaked through his shirt. I want to reach out and treat those wounds, but I feel frozen in place no matter how much I want to move.

"Ridiculous child," Adel states in a laughing tone. "He is mortal and will die eventually. Why bother to protect him with such passion when you won't allow me to change him for you?"

"He's _mine,_ " Seifer bites out in reply, but the breathy quality to his voice is obvious. Also, with him so close to me, I can also sense his unexpected exhaustion. It's only been a short time, and yet he has already been reduced to this injured and weakened state. On some level, that terrifies me.

The aged vampire scolds him with a quiet tsk. "So possessive, my lost son. I thought I had taught you the most important lesson which came with your conversion - everything that you own from your soul to your pets belong to me."

Seifer growls, but oddly doesn't move from his position. Assuming his wounds are worse than I first thought, I glance over his body with a closer examination, but I see nothing more than the few thick needles which have pierced through his arms at his elbows.

Abruptly, there is the shattering of wood behind us, and before I have the chance to turn, an explosion of gunfire sounds. I can't hold back a quiet cry as pain flares from my upper arm, but that pathetic noise of weakness is promptly covered up by screams from female vampire. Ignoring her sounds of anguish, I glance back at the opened doorway and briefly stare at the unexpected appearance of the longhaired cowboy wielding his shotgun. But noticing his aim was still trained on Adel and not Seifer, I decide to turn my back on Kinneas in order to help the blond vampire.

Moving to the larger man's side, I'm startled by the sight of numerous lengthy needles piercing the golden flesh and dark blood trailing down his body in thin streams. Immediately I reach for the silver protruding from his neck and begin to remove the pins as gently as I can.

"Idiot," Seifer hisses as the first needle is removed. "You have to get out of here, and take that worthless mutt with you."

I ignore him and continue with my task. "What are these?"

"Poisoned pins, so be careful of their tips."

My eyes widen at the announcement that he had been poisoned.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Seifer reassures softly, "This won't kill me, but I can't move due to the poison and the placement of the pins. And since I can't protect you like this, would you fucking leave before I have to watch you die?"

"But Kinneas--"

Eyes of bright emerald glare at me and make my breath stall. "My mistress cannot be kill so simply. Leave before she's done pla--"

His words are cut off by the deafening explosion of gunfire. I glance back to question Kinneas for the unexpected shot, but then freeze at the sight of the crimson-eyed vampire holding the offensive weapon instead of the cowboy. Dark lips pulled back in a frightening sneer, Adel slowly lowers the shotgun before tossing it beyond the open doorway, our exit now blocked by the presence of the aged demon. With intentional slowness, the vampire turns and directs her blood-red gaze on me, but my eyes don't stay with hers as I view upon the amount of damage Kinneas has caused. A large and ragged hole curves into her left side into an injury that no human could live through, let alone function after receiving such a wound. While plenty of dark blood flows from the sickening hole, globs of the same blackness move at the edge of her destroyed flesh, writhing outward as if the darkness within her was trying to escape.

Adel smirks without suggesting that she felt any of the pain related to such an injury. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the solid doors slam close behind her and shimmer strangely as a symbol flares to life on the dark wood. That done, the vampire gracefully moves from her position, her path purposefully taking her past the fallen cowboy where she steps on a limp hand. Kinneas hardly reacts to the pressure on his fingers, the greater pain of his body being riddled with shot taking most of his attention.

"That wasn't necessary," Seifer mutters, the man unable to see the injured hunter, but the scent of blood and the sounds of Kinneas' groans are obvious enough.

"Ridiculous. Have you fallen so far that you care about the life of a beast, not to mention a hunter?"

"I don't care about him," the blond bites back, glaring at the woman as she pauses at a large window covered by dark red curtains.

"Perhaps, but your so-called... 'daughter' cared a great deal for him, if I remember correctly. Though it was difficult to understand the names she called out while I was studying her intestines to learn more of the future."

"Don't you _dare_ speak of her."

"Very well. If she isn't a matter to be discussed, then how about your latest catch?" Eyes of blood red and no pupils shift to meet my gaze and her darkly painted lips twist into a fearful smirk. “Despite your continued desire to frustrate me, I must admit that you have the amazing ability to find rare and lovely treasures. Though I do believe that I favor this pet above the others in your past.”

Seifer growls softly, but the attempt to move his arm does nothing but cause his muscles to twitch beneath his shredded shirt.

“Don’t struggle - you know my pins never miss their mark,” she states with sadistic glee. Her gaze still focused on me, she raises a pale hand and motions me forward. “Come, pet. Let me view you up close.”

Fighting the vampire’s command, I glance warily at Seifer, but he bows his head the other way to avoid looking at me. Uncertain what to do, my eyes lower in thought, and at that moment, I notice the small knife still sheathed at his side. Knowing the properties of the weapon, I attempt to strategize a method in which I can retrieve the important knife without arousing the aged vampire’s attention. But as I step closer to Seifer's side for the purpose of shielding the movements of my hand, a single scolding sound from the crimson-haired woman freezes me in place.

“Careful, mortal. I told you to come to me, not to your disobedient master. And you _will_ come to me.”

Unable to resist the strengthened command, I turn away without managing to touch the knife, and I walk directly, albeit hesitantly, to the tall woman. Her smile of yellow-stained teeth widens with every one of my steps closer to her, victory clear in her expression. I eventually manage to stop myself, but Adel easily closes the remaining distance with a single step and places an icy hand at my cheek. I don’t bother to hide my shiver of revulsion at the touch which smelled of dead flowers and gunpowder.

“Yes, a very fine specimen you have found. He will be a lovely addition to our family.”

“I won’t curse him with our life.”

The red-eyed woman laughs with a brash edge. “You are too dramatic, my son. For you to say that immortality and inhuman powers are horrible curses instead of the blessings you had once begged from me…” Her words breakup with more laughter before she asks, “Whomever did you get these ideas from?”

"... ..."

"You have wasted too much time listening to these humans before tasting them. Such an inefficient use of your time," Adel scolds as her hand continues to stroke my skin. She then places her hand at my shoulder and turns me around to face Seifer, the sight of the injured and unmoving man making my heart clench with ache. But I'm quickly distracted as a lengthy fingernail traces along a seal on my neck, the touch unexpectedly pleasurable as much as it disgusts me. "As I warned you before, my son, we share blood. Though you have selfishly ruined this human for others, there are ways for me to trick the magic into believing that I am you."

"I won't let you," Seifer growls as he attempts to move forward, the action causing more dark blood to flow, the blood I had given to him earlier today. How could our situation change so rapidly, from simple pleasure of flesh to the horrors of pain and death.

"You have only two choices, child. Either I transform this pathetic man into someone more worthy of your status, or..." The vampire pauses as her long fingers wrap around my throat and slowly squeeze to the point of making it very difficult to breathe. "I will kill him like your other pets."

I don't know if Seifer responses to the ultimatum, verbally or otherwise. With the unnaturally strong hand around my neck, my vision dims to an uncomfortable hazy black and my hearing is blocked by the rushing sound of waves. And stupidly, with the vampire touching the two symbols present on the sides of my neck, I can't stop feeling a sense of desire for the demon, which only makes my revulsion for her that much stronger. Wanting and _needing_ her hand away from me for reasons more than air, I instinctively grab for the knife at my side. Instantly, harsh screams attack my defenseless mind and command me that I am not allowed to harm the woman behind me, my future 'Mistress'. If I had breath, I would be tempted to laugh at the suggestion that I would accept the woman as my master.

Hardly thinking in my need for freedom, I stab the knife at the hand gripped around my throat. While I cry out at the blade slicing through my skin, the vampire's scream makes it worth my meager pain. Adel jerks back her hand, myself just barely keeping hold onto the knife handle to cut it deeper into pale flesh before she could pull her hand free of the blade.

My vision returning with my ability to breathe, I gaze forward to view upon the hazy image of Seifer and frown when seeing his lips curled into a dark smile. But before I can understand his apparent humor, I sense the approach of the aged demon. Everything slows as I turn to face her, and somehow I can see the coming strike of her bloodied hand. After bending my knees just enough to slip below her claw-like fingernails, I promptly lunge upward with my knife held before me in both hands. The etched metal pierces deep into the woman's chest and instantly silences her howling screams. Blood-red eyes stare down at me with an uncomprehending gaze as her hand falls limply to her side.

My heart racing with fear and heated energy, I release my hold on the knife hilt and step back cautiously with the intent to help Seifer and somehow escape from this place. But with my hand removed and my vision clearer than before, I take notice of the weapon buried in the vampire's chest and recognize that the aged hilt isn't the one I had carved for myself. Turning sharply, I stare at Seifer with a silent question, unable to believe that the blond could actually be that stupid.

His malicious smile changing into one of pride, Seifer says, "I switched our blades just before we stepped inside this brothel. Sorry, but I couldn't let her read your mind and discover that you held the key to her death."

Despite the success of his trick, I feel furious at his audacity to place such a large responsibility on my mortal shoulders. Though tempted to punch the man for his arrogance, I'm interrupted by a sound behind me. I quickly turn around into a defensive stance, but then relax at the sight of female vampire fallen to her knees.

"My son... how... _betrayed_ me..."

Seifer scoffs. "If I was truly your son, you would've wanted me to live the life of my choosing. I never betrayed you, Adel - _you_ betrayed _me_."

The crimson-haired woman stares blankly at the man. "You were so beautiful... so handsome... my dark son..." And with her final sighed out words, Adel falls backward and doesn't speak or move a second time.

* * *

[Seifer]

It's with mixed feelings that I watch my 'mother' fall dead to the ground. In truth, she was the only mother I knew in my lengthy lifetime, and early on, I worshipped the woman like I have no other. It was a century before I recognized her distorted sentiments for what they were. I had pulled away from Adel in search of peace, but my weakness toward her never really faded, even as my hatred and anger grew stronger. And so, viewing her lifeless body, I can't help but to feel both sadness and relief toward the death of the woman who cursed me with this life, a life that has given me infinite grief and the rare touch of happiness.

My disjointed thoughts are interrupted by the sharp pain of silver sliding through flesh. Moving my gaze from the murdered immortal, I watch as Squall removes another set of needles from my arm. Any thoughts of speaking to the native disappear once I see the stern expression of the brunet. I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise that he is furious, but as of late, something about angering the young man bothers me. Certainly, I enjoy getting a frosty glare whenever I tease him for one thing or another, but I fear his true fury, the same anger which prompted him to leave his tribe and declare that he no longer had a home. One of these days, I imagine that I will be at the wrong end of his anger, and I'm not entirely certain what I'd want with my life without Squall around.

With the final needle removed from my foot, I fall to my knees and wrap my arms tightly around the slim man. Surprisingly, Squall doesn't refuse me the need to touch him and hold him close. I had first smelled his blood when he was hit by stray shot from the werewolf's attack, and then when the native had cut himself in his attempt to escape Adel. And now, with this chance to relieve the hunger which had been stirred by the intoxicating scent, I sigh softly and slide my tongue along the shallow wound at his neck. Squall stiffens at the moist touch, but then grabs onto the side of my torn shirt in a desperate hold.

"I hate you."

Licking his cut closed, I lightly kiss the healed flesh. "I'm sorry."

"Do not let another person touch me. Never again."

Though initially surprised by his demand, I smirk against his skin. "No one else is allowed to have you. Only me."

"Only you," Squall whimpers softly as my aching fangs caress his throat.

It takes plenty of my failing willpower to not bite into the native here and now. With my body in pain and too much blood lost, I want to find the comfort that drinking the half-blood's nectar will bring me. But remembering the hopeless children beyond the sealed door, I know that Squall will have to defend himself and perhaps me, as well, given my current pathetic state.

"Seifer. That cowboy needs help."

Reminded of Kinneas, I straighten and gaze down at the native. While I was at first tempted to leave the werewolf to his misery, I surrender to the concern visible in pale eyes. "Help me to him."

With Squall's aid, I stand up and walk unsteadily to the fallen hunter. Truthfully, with my back turned to him this entire time, I didn't expect the werewolf to be this badly injured. Along with the severe damage caused by the silver shot in his gun, there are deep cuts caused by Adel's knife. At least the hunter got in a good shot before the woman had stolen his weapon, but against an aged vampire, it wasn't nearly enough.

Kneeling to the hardwood floor, I place a hand at the side of his head. Sweat mixed with spots of dark blood cover his face and neck, the rest of him a mess of gore from the shot that tore into his chest. Despite the years I've spent trying to make him resistant to the silver poisoning, too much of the harmful metal has entered into his blood. His body can't heal this way and there's nothing I can do about it.

"I'm dead," Kinneas mutters through clenched teeth.

"That's what you get for acting like a novice hunter. You should've known a single shot wouldn't kill an old vampire, and you didn't even shoot her in the fucking heart! What were you thinking?!"

A strained chuckle comes from the hunter. "That I had... one shot left..."

"And your hesitating gave that shot to Adel."

Opening his eyes enough to reveal a sliver of amethyst, Kinneas manages a smile in my direction. "You... care...?"

"I only care about my promise, and you made it fucking impossible to save your ass time and time again."

His smile widening, he knocks his hand against my knee. "Take... the bracelet..."

With a glance downward, I frown at the sight of the metal bracelet I had given Quistis when she became a nurse. Seeing the wide bar of steel connected by decorative chains on the wolf's wrist causes a twist of jealousy in my gut, but I can't blame her for giving the memento to her husband. And so, I shake my head, not wanting this gift returned to me.

" _Take it_ ," Kinneas hisses, then promptly coughs until blood coats his chin.

I glare at the hunter, annoyed at his attempt of a truce or whatever else is rolling around in that dense head of his. But while I refuse the bracelet, Squall unexpectedly reaches between us and removes the metal from the limp wrist. Though wanting to scold the native, I notice the gleam of relief in the eyes of the wolf. Deciding to do something about the bracelet later, I allow the brunet to safely tuck away the jewelry into his pocket.

"Squall," I say with renewed control over my anger. "Bring me my knife."

Pale eyes glance over the ruined form of the hunter before Squall stands up smoothly and steps over to the body of my former mistress.

"Thanks..." Kinneas mutters while closing his eyes, already prepared to meet Quistis before me. Though I would only be fooling myself to believe that I will ever get the chance to see my daughter again. The doors to Heaven and peace will never be open for a man who willing chose to become a demon.

As I take my blade from Squall's outreached hand, I wonder at the strange feel to the knife I've held for centuries. Done with pointless words, I raise the blade and whisper a quiet 'good riddance' which the keen hearing of the wolf catches judging by his grin. I stab the dark blade into his bloodied flesh, cleanly piercing the tainted heart within.

Gasping at the feel of the demon-killing knife, Kinneas opens his eyes to stare at me. "Ta... take care... of him..."

As the mist of death fills his violet gaze, I find myself with wide eyes and without breath for several moments. Abruptly able to move, I grip what is remaining of the cowboy's shirt and lift him up for us to be eye to eye. "Take care of _who_ , you bastard. Who the fuck are you _talking about_!"

Warm hands settle on my arm, making me look sharply at the native. The unhidden worry in his stormy eyes make me realize that I'm trying to get answers out of a dead man. Reluctantly and with a final shake of the limp form, I let the body drop to the ground with wet sound. I stare at him for a moment longer before remembering something and turn my gaze to the native.

"The bracelet. Give it me."

Squall frowns while placing a protective hand over his pocket. "He wanted you to have it."

"I know that, you idiot. I'm not going to get rid of it, so give me the bracelet."

Though the wariness doesn't leave his eyes, Squall removes the piece of jewelry from his pocket and gently lays it on my hand. I stare at the warm metal for a long moment, almost afraid that my guess could be right about this matter. Carefully, I place the large bar of metal between my fingers and then use a fingernail to pop open the disguised locket. A yellowed piece of paper rests inside, and once unfolding the small square, I have the urge to cry and scream at the same time.

"Seifer..."

Growling, I push myself up, and after regaining my balance, I kick the corpse beneath me, taking satisfaction with every splatter of blood my boot causes. But I don't get in more than four kicks before arms are around my chest and I'm pulled away from the dead werewolf. Only the poison in my system makes me weak enough to allow the native to stop my desire to mutilate the hunter's body further. Even so, I try to escape his surprisingly strong hold.

"That **bastard!** How dare he... how _dare_ he leave my grandson in a fucking _orphanage_!"

At the same moment I lunge forward, Squall jerks me back another step, the awkward move leaving us both unbalanced as we fall to the ground. The native quickly rolls on top of me and uses his weight to keep me flat on the hardwood. I struggle against him, prompting the brunet to grab onto my wrists and slam them back over my head.

"He is _dead_ , Seifer! Leave him in peace!"

" _He doesn't deserve peace!_ "

Though not loosening his hold, Squall appears startled by my rage. "Explain this to me."

At the calm demand, I pull in some of my fury and speak in low tones to the native. "Hidden in that bracelet was a piece of paper which has an address for an orphanage in England and Kier's name. That fucking wolf left his son, my grandson, in an orphanage so that he could hunt me without a young boy slowing him down."

"And what is an... or-fan-giz?"

"An orphanage is a place where unwanted children are stashed away. But Kier doesn't belong there. From the beginning, he was wanted by his mother, and I..." My anger mostly smothered by somber memories of Quistis and her son, I state softly, "I haven't even seen the boy."

"And the wolf asked you to care for this boy?"

"Like I give a shit what that monster wanted. He left that boy all alone even though that bastard wolf has family in Virginia. He should've just brought Kier to America where he belongs."

Squall finally releases his hold on me and sits back on my thighs. "Maybe... he had a reason?"

"I told you his damned reason - his priority was to kill me when he should've been raising his son. Instead, he deserted his own blood just like a piece of dead weight."

The native cocks his head in a thoughtful manner and then asks, "This 'Kier' is the child of Quistis, too?"

" _Yes_ , damn it. Have you been listening to me?"

"Then, you will go care for her son?"

"That's not the point! That bastard--"

"Is dead," the native interrupts in a calm tone. "And that boy is alive."

I stare into blue-gray eyes, hating what I see there. How can this man already know what I refuse to admit to myself, that more than anything, I want to see my grandson. And now, with both of his parents dead, I'm the last who knows where the boy has been hidden. I can't take care of this child, not with my dark life, but he doesn't deserve to live the life of an orphan. Somehow, I have to retrieve Kier and send him to where the Kinneas family currently resides.

Squall stands silently, and then holds out a hand. "We should go."

Staring at the extended hand, I hesitate before accepting the offer of aid. Once steady, I jerk my hand from his grasp and step over to the fallen wolf. Leaning down, I remove the knife from the bloodied chest, and after a final kick to the corpse, I turn to face Squall and his scolding glare.

"I couldn't resist," I state with a sneer, and then hold out the knife to the brunet. "Take it and let's go."

"That is your knife."

"Not anymore. I'm done with this weapon and I want you to have it. Hell, you accomplished more with this blade than I did in the past century. It belongs to you."

Squall eyes the knife for a moment longer before accepting my gift to him. With a careful touch, he wipes dark blood from the blade as best he can, and then sheaths the weapon at his side. Glancing over my shoulder, he frowns in thought, but I beat him to the question I can sense forming in his mind.

"I'll send someone to retrieve his body and ship him off to his family, so stop bothering me about that piece of scum."

The brunet smirks with a small curl of pale lips before turning in the direction of the exit. "I hope the wolf left some of those... 'whores' alive."

I can't resist my smile at the native's careful usage of the crude term, and then take my place at his side. "Lead on, lovely. I'll watch your back."

~ > < ~

Sitting in a dimly lit room filled with old furniture, I can't force myself to sit in place. Instead, I stand next to a window and stare out at the fog moving sluggishly under the early evening light. I probably should have waited until morning, but I was afraid that I'd think up a new set of excuses overnight and would never find the courage to come here to the orphanage. At the sound of a quiet sip, I glance over at the seated man and realize that Squall wouldn't have allowed me to shirk my responsibility to my grandson. The native is the only reason I've gotten this far, and I hate him for that.

Deciding to distract myself, I gaze at the slim man bundled in a thick sweater and a wool vest with his jacket resting on his lap. Seated on the worn couch, Squall holds a steaming cup of tea between his two hands and steals another sip of the heated liquid despite his nose-crinkling distaste for the flavor. It had taken more effort than I thought it would to convince the native to come with me to England. Aside from his fear of traveling across an ocean and visiting strange lands, Squall had managed to convince himself that I wouldn't need him once Adel had been killed. I blame his past, a time when he was exploited for his fighting abilities, and then left to bleed whenever the battle was finished. How he found the motivation to crawl back to his tribe to heal and fight another day, I'll never understand. But I was no better in the beginning, only wanting Squall to appease my hunger. He wasn't supposed to mean more to me, but that changed the first night I watched over his sleeping form. Of course my love for him wasn't anything instant, but there was no avoiding the sight of the beautiful man relaxed in a stretched out pose. It was the beginning of an irresistible hunger which I enjoy satisfying every chance I get.

The sound of footsteps startles me from comforting thoughts, and instantly my stomach twists with uncertainty. I watch the open doorway as the steps draw closer, and my breath halts at the sight of the young woman who watches over the children here. A small child follows closely behind her, efficiently hiding behind the woman's long skirt while still holding onto her hand. The woman, 'Selphie' if I remember correctly, smiles fondly at the child before turning a cooler gaze in my direction.

"I'm not certain if I should trust you with this boy, but he says he wants to talk to you."

"It's alright. I understand that Kinneas told you... things about me. I'd be more worried if you weren't concerned about my presence here."

The green-eyed woman sighs before reaching into the folds of her skirt. "Normally, I wouldn't have let you set one foot into this building, but we received this letter weeks ago. Kier swears that his father wrote it, so it leaves me to honor Irvine's wishes."

I frown, unable to guess the contents of the letter.

"Daddy's dead, isn't he?"

Surprised by the stern voice of the young boy, I glance downward at the child who is still hidden behind the protective matron. Not knowing how to respond, I reflexively speak with plain honesty. "He was killed while trying to help me. And I couldn't save him."

With extreme caution, the boy peaks out from behind the woman and suddenly I'm staring into lavender eyes which shine in contrast to the black knitted hat covering most of his head. Lord, I forgot that it has been nearly five years since Quistis' death, and Kier had been two at that time. So much time lost, and I'll probably never see him again after I take him home to the Kinneas estate. Why do I torture myself like this?

"And you didn't kill Mommy?"

The simple question steals away my breath, surprising me that the young Kinneas knows the truth, that I would have never harmed his mother. Unable to reply otherwise, I shake my head and whisper, "No..."

After staring at me for a moment longer, Kier releases his hold on the skirt of his matron and he holds out his hand. "Can I give Péré the letter?"

While I stare with disbelief at the boy calling me 'grandfather' in Quistis' first language, the young brunette gives the child the envelope and he walks warily in my direction.

"Daddy wrote to me and he said that he was wrong. He said you are a good person just like Mommy said. He also said that you would come and get me if Daddy died." Holding out the worn envelope, Kier continues to say, "Daddy wrote something to you, too, and I didn't open it since he told me not to. Ms Selphie wanted to know what it said, but I made her promise to not read it."

Smiling at the tattletale ways of young children, I take the envelope and place it in my pocket to be read later.

"Are... are you going to take me home, now?" Kier asks while pulling the sides of his knitted hat lower in a shy manner.

"If you want to come with me, yes. But I can wait until you're ready."

The boy shakes his head. "I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to go home."

Before I can reply, the young matron states, "I'll go collect his things," and leaves the room with a hurt air, most likely upset with how quickly the child decided to join me.

"Kier..." Both the boy and I jump at the soft voice, never noticing when Squall had moved from the couch. He kneels next to my young grandson and looks directly into lavender eyes. "Will you remove your hat?"

Kier immediately tugs harder on the hat and shakes his head.

"It is alright. You do not need to hide from your grandfather."

The boy stares at the native, and then gazes warily in my direction. White teeth bite into his lower lip before his eyes shift to the floor. Small hands clutch tighter at the black material before he slowly slides the hat forward. Auburn hair frizzes as the fine strands stick to the hat, but that is hardly my concern as dark brown fur makes its appearance and two wolf ears slip out into plain view. I know I should have expected this, but I had hoped long ago that Quistis' son wouldn't have to bear the curse of the werewolf.

Breaking the silence, Squall reaches out his hand. "May I?"

Kier nods sharply in reply, but despite giving his permission, he closes his eyes tightly when long fingers first touch his unusual ears. In his gentle way, Squall strokes along the wolf ears and he patiently smoothes down the dark fur. Once realizing that no harm was being caused to his ears, Kier opens his eyes to gaze at the native, and slowly, a shy smile forms as the massaging strokes continue.

"You have soft fur."

Kier's smile widens to display sharp canines, the small fangs giving the boy a mischievous look. "I have a tail, too, and Mommy always liked how soft it is."

Squall returns the smile before removing his hand. "Thank you for showing us your secret."

The youth nods happily, and then puts his hat back on. "Ms Selphie says I shouldn't show no one my ears or tail, but Daddy's letter said I could show Péré." Frowning in sudden thought, Kier then asks the native, "Who are you?"

"He's Squall," I say before the brunet can speak. "He is someone who is very important to me, just like your mother was important to your father."

The boy considers the answer, and then asks, "Do I have to call you 'Grandmum'?"

* * *

[Squall]

Gazing at the form curled into a tight ball under a thick blanket, I slowly close the door to the boy's room and step quietly down the hallway to the room where I last saw Seifer. Pausing at the doorway, I frown at the sight of the vampire seated on a bench next to the dark window, him in the exact same position since I had readied Kier for bed and told him a story about the wolf spirits my people respected. Not wishing to disturb Seifer, I turn with the intention to find a snack, but a deep voice stops me.

"Is the pup asleep?"

Glancing back at the blond, I see his extended hand and easily recognize the silent request for contact. I step toward the vampire and move close enough for the larger man to wrap his arm loosely around my waist. "He is resting. But he asked for you."

Seifer sighs while lifting up the crumpled paper he had been reading ever since we returned to this place with his grandson. "I know you can't read and the letter isn't worth repeating word for word, but I'll summarize it for you. Kinneas first rambled on about misjudging me, which makes me believe that the bastard wasn't fully unconscious when I told you about Quistis. There's no other way he could realize the truth, that I wasn't her killer, and it looks like this letter was sent while he was still recovering from the injuries you gave him.

"But that isn't really important compared this one paragraph here," Seifer states while his thumb brushes next to a clump of the dark lettering I can't decipher. "Kinneas never told his family about his transformation, that apparently they would've hunted him like any other beast. While I'm tempted to believe that he was overreacting, it doesn't really surprise me much. They are quite the fanatics when it comes to ridding the world of so-called darkness."

As the vampire drops into silence, I allow him a moment to organize his thoughts while I place a hand at his neck in a comforting gesture. With a sigh, Seifer closes his eyes and slumps against my chest as the hand holding the piece of paper drops onto his lap.

"They wouldn't accept Kier," he says quietly. "They'd sooner kill him than raise him. And I told you how Quistis was a street rat, a child without a family. There's no where for the boy to go."

"There is you."

Seifer scoffs. "I can't raise a child, Squall. Look at what happened to Quistis. Adel might be dead, but there will always be others. Whether they are demons I've wronged in the past or hunters looking for fame, there will always others who will threaten any type of happiness I can piece together."

I don't argue, knowing by his choked tone of voice and the tightened hold around my waist that any words I say won't affect him in his current state. Maybe in the morning I can remind him about his previous fury when he learned that his grandson was living in an orphanage, left alone much like his daughter had been before she met the blond vampire. It'll take time, but I know Seifer wants this despite his fear of losing the happiness he gains in his difficult life.

Seifer abruptly straightens, and without a word, he pushes me aside to stand up from the bench. Leaving the letter behind, he walks just beyond the doorway where he turns with arms folded across his chest and his emerald eyes glaring downward.

"I thought you were asleep."

At the sound of a soft sniffle, I move next to the vampire and look down to find Kier sitting next to the doorway. His dark ears rest limply over his auburn hair and a fluffy tail curls tightly beneath his pajama covered legs. Though his cheek are red and moist with spent tears, his pale purple eyes are serious as he stares up at Seifer.

"You don't want me?"

The blond growls out a sigh before continuing to glare at the young boy. "Do you have any idea what kind of monster I am?"

Nodding, Kier says, "A vampire. Mommy told me that."

"You don't need to lie, boy. I know you were too young to remember anything your mother told you."

"Nuh-un! I remember her," Kier retorts angrily as his dark tail bristles with offense. "I remember since before I could walk. And Mommy always talked about you, and she said you would love me even though she said bad things to you."

Seifer stiffens at the boy's declaration, but then regains his icy front. "Very well, but aren't you afraid of me?"

"No. Daddy was a werewolf, and I'm like him, kind of." Lavender eyes widen with realization and Kier sits up straighter. "If I gave you my blood, would you want me then?"

"And why in _Hell's_ name would I _drink_ the _blood of a **child**?!_ "

The boy winces at the stern tone of his grandfather and his dark ears flatten fearfully on top of his head. "Sorry..."

"There is no reason for you to be sorry," I state softly as I step between him and the vampire. "Come, you should be in bed."

Moist lavender eyes peer up at me, Kier obviously not wanting to leave before he can successfully convince Seifer to keep him. I smile at the boy and hold out a hand to him, coaxing Kier to come with me. Reluctantly, he places a small hand in mine and allows me to pull him up to his feet. While he comes with me down the hallway, the young boy drags his feet in a purposeful manner to give Seifer plenty of time to say something, but the vampire does nothing more than glare at me for my intervention.

After tucking the child under warm blankets for a second time tonight, I sit on the edge of the bed and lean down far enough to speak quietly to the boy. "Do you truly want to stay with Seifer?"

Kier nods while curling deeper under the heavy blanket covering his body.

"Then he will not desert you. But you must stay strong and ignore his attempts to scare you away."

The boy blinks with confusion, but then nods with a touch more confidence.

"And I will help you."

Hope light enters the pale eyes. "You want me?"

I nod in reply.

"And you think Péré will let me stay?"

"Yes. But give me time to remind Seifer that he is lucky to have you."

Kier smiles shyly at my words and I can feel the swaying motion of his tail beneath the blanket. Pleased that it was a simple task to reassure the young boy, I brush strands of hair from his face and wish him good dreams before I leave the small room. As I close the door, I can feel the heavy gaze of emerald eyes from across the hall. Unbothered by the gleam threat in those poisonous eyes, I take my time returning the narrow room holding plenty of chairs and more books than I've seen in my lifetime. As I sit in a cushioned chair with my back held to the entrance, Seifer follows behind me and closes the door tightly before speaking.

"I am not taking that boy in and that's that."

I don't let myself be swayed by the heated anger flowing from the vampire, but instead look at the window's reflective surface given the darkened world outside. "Do you know how it feels... to lose a mother who loved you? And then discover no one else cares if you live or die?"

Seifer doesn't say anything for a time as his gaze meets mine through the reflection of the dark window. But abruptly his eyes shift away and glare at the corner of the room. "I know what you're trying to say, Squall, but it doesn't matter. There's only blood and death in my world, and that is no place for a child. Certainly not my grandson."

"But with his... features, that will be his life."

Seifer frowns, his only reply.

"Do you know what you gave me?"

Green eyes dark in the window shift to meet mine through our reflections, the softened gaze revealing the man's curiosity.

Uncertain how to explain my thoughts in straight words, let alone in his language, I state simply, "I am happy with my life."

His expression becomes unreadable through the panes of glass, and after a time of staring, Seifer steps away from the door to circle around the chair and stand before me. Leaning forward, he places one hand on an armrest while resting his other chilled hand at my throat. With his thumb stroking the dark brand, he asks, "How can you be happy with this?"

I place my hand on his. "It binds me to you."

"That is hardly something to be proud of."

"It is not about pride, but... wanting to be alive. And to live in warmth with you." Squeezing his hand, I continue to say, "Kier also wants life, where he is not alone or afraid. You can give that to him."

Seifer sighs at my tenacity and slowly sinks to his knees before resting his head on my lap. "I hate the way you make things sound easier than they are. It'll take more than you think to raise a child, especially with the need to move and hide all of the time. He'll eventually hate us for that."

I don't argue, already getting my taste of Seifer's necessity for stealth when we had to escape the city where Adel was killed along with her whores. And given his immortality, I have to assume that he is forced to move whenever someone would question his appearance. This place is safe simply because Seifer managed to convince the aged and nearsighted caretaker that he is the grandson of the man who owns this house when, of course, it was Seifer who invested his money into this piece of land decades ago. According to the vampire, he owns numerous residences throughout Europe, and he has already promised to show me those places along with the various sights of this strange continent. Thankfully, Kier's presence should change those plans. After crossing an entire ocean, I'm not overly eager to venture even further into countries where they don't speak English.

"Will you help me?"

I glance down at the vampire to find that I had placed my fingers deep into his golden hair at some point. Deciding to ignore what that could mean, I continue the massage and reply, "I will always stay at your side."

The blond huffs. "I knew that the moment you agreed to come to Europe with me, but that doesn't answer my question, lovely. Will you help me raise the brat?"

I don't reply directly, and instead ask, "Is he like his father?"

"If you are asking about his features, then no, he's not a werewolf like Kinneas was."

When Seifer says nothing more than a quiet 'lower', I rub the back of his neck while mentioning, "But he looks like a wolf."

Sighing, the vampire explains, "When a human and wolf mate, there are several possibilities with their offspring. They can range from completely normal humans to insanely ferocious werewolves. Kier is mix, which is actually one of the better possibilities. He'll always bear the signs of the wolf, but he won't transform with the full moon. In a sense, he gets the best of both worlds - the mind of a human and some greater abilities of the wolf."

"But people will see the monster."

At my words, Seifer sits back onto his heels and gazes up at me with a gleam of defeat in his eyes. "Except for us, you mean, right?"

I smile softly, pleased that the blond isn't hopelessly stubborn.

"Fine, but I want him to have a real education, so that means we'll have to live near a large city, which I know you'll hate. And we'll have to move every few years or so. And you'll have to wear the clothing I buy you. _And_ \--"

I press fingers against his lips to stop the blond's attempt to discourage me. "Before, I felt alone while living with many people. I do not want that child to live like I did."

As a cool hand wraps around my fingers to pull them aside, Seifer smiles and kisses the digits. "Even with my powers, I apparently can't move a mountain like yourself."

"No, you cannot," I mutter distractedly as a deft tongue circles along my fingers and draws them deeper into his mouth. Sharp fangs caress my suddenly warmer flesh, and I find that focusing on the blond vampire is harder than it was moments previously. "<White demon...>"

The slip into my native language makes Seifer hum with pleasure as he removes my fingers from his mouth to better us his lips on the dark branding present on my wrist. My entire body goes limp at the feel of pointed teeth tracing the outer circle of the black seal, and I can't resist a quiet groan. The noise encourages the vampire into moving forward such that his larger body covers mine and his mouth attacks my vulnerable neck. Unexpectedly, a cold hand sneaks beneath the gray sweater which had been doing a very good job at keeping me warm. I briefly consider hitting the man for making me feel chilled again, but that idea dissolves into nothingness when calloused fingertips stroke along the markings on my lower back.

Just when I begin to mutter in my own language about the unfairness of the situation, Seifer pulls back and growls in the direction of the doorway. "What do you want?"

Startled by the sound of the opening door, I sit up and look around the back of the chair to see Kier standing in a timid stance with his hand held tight on the doorknob. "Can I have some water?"

Seifer sighs loudly in annoyance while muttering to me, "And this is what you get when you allow a child into your home." Standing before I can retort, the vampire steps to the young boy and places his hand between two flattened ears. "Come on, mutt. I'll get you that glass of water, and then you'll go to the bathroom. That way you'll have no more excuses for staying up tonight. We have a busy day of shopping tomorrow, and if you don't get your sleep now, you'll be exhausted before we get to the candy store."

Pale purple eyes brighten at the mention of this 'candy store'. "Can we really go there?"

"A-ah, and I'll allow you three pieces of candy, but only if you're good. Understood?"

Kier's eyes widen further. " _Three_ pieces? Just for me?"

Seifer smiles in reply before moving his hand to the boy's chest and pushes him into the hallway. "Hurry up, kid. I want to tuck Squall into bed as soon as possible."

I smirk at the suggestive wink the vampire sends my way before vanishing beyond the doorway. Alone, I sit silently while listening to Kier's voice echo from the hall, the child probably trying to get a straight answer from his grandfather about whether or not he'll be staying with us for good. After the voice fades into the distance, I turn to face my reflection in the dark window. It's hard to believe at times that I've come this far, that an unwanted rodent from the desert has found a comfortable home with a lonely beast of the night. And now, given this chance to save another unwanted child from my near fate of dying without knowing true happiness, I feel heartened and blessed by the Spirits.

Adjusting my position in the large chair, I curl my feet beneath me and cross my arms over my chest to regain the warmth which Seifer had stolen from me. While I can't sense his hunger just yet, I'll have to convince the vampire to feed on my blood before he tries anything else tonight - it's easier to appreciate his touches when they don't freeze me to the bone. And that's not to mention his increase stamina after getting his fill.

"Hey."

I jump slightly as I wake from my apparent doze and stare directly into bright emerald eyes.

"And what were you smiling about, hn?"

I shrug, not one to admit that I was wondering how much warmer I'd feel after a session of sex. "Is Kier asleep?"

"Finally, and he should stay that way with the mild suggestion I gave him." Smirking, Seifer leans in close such that I'm quickly lost in entrancing green pools. "And what about you, hmmm? Time for bed?"

"Yes," I murmur before closing the distance between us to taste the cool lips of the vampire. Retreating from the chaste kiss, I warn the blond, "But take blood before you make me colder."

Seifer laughs out, "Yes, my Indian Prince," before burying a hand in my hair and drawing me forward for a more intimate tangle of lips and tongues. Eventually he allows me the chance and space to stand up from the large chair, but his arm immediately moves to my waist as he holds me tight against his body. I lose my breath as the vampire takes his first taste of me for this night, his fangs piercing deep into the juncture of shoulder and neck. Even though he has done this numerous times, I find myself groaning at the intense sensation which travels through my veins. The noise prompts Seifer to tighten his hold as he draws deeper on my life blood, bringing me to the edge of dizziness before he licks my skin to heal the wounds he created.

"Better?" he asks in a low tone while his warmer hand brushes from behind my ear to the back of my neck.

I whisper out a 'yes' before I glance up to witness Seifer licking traces of blood from his lips. "Does it taste good?"

The vampire chuckles at the question, his fangs in full view. "You taste better than 'good', lovely. It's an irresistible flavor I could never describe."

Smiling at his honest tone, I place my hand at his cheek and brush away a fleck of blood from his pale skin. "You are warm."

"Mmm, apparently so. Which means I'm allowed to touch you again, yes?"

I hum the affirmative, but then quickly add, "Remember, Kier is down the hall."

"He's under my spell and won't wake even if a stampede of elephants trampled over his bed. Or if there were similar sounds against the wall between our rooms," Seifer adds suggestively.

While easily catching his meaning, I can't stop myself from asking, "What is an 'ella-faint'?"

 

{Owari}


End file.
